Matrimonium Lex
by NoseyHeiffer
Summary: This is my version of the last three years of the Harry Potter story. An AU Marriage Law fiction. Severus & Hermione - Albus & Minerva - Black & Vector
1. Chapter 1

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many, many thanks for my amazing beta, Selek! This is my first attempt at HP fanfiction. It is complete and runs 25 chapters. PLEASE review.

 **CHAPTER 1**

 **July 1995**

Voldemort had plans. Great plans. Grand plans. Plans in which he - he alone - was destined to rule all of Wizarding Britain, and, then the whole Wizarding World. But first there were wheels to set into motion. Wheels to grease. Wheels to grind. Wheels within wheels. Oh, twisting, turning, burning wheels!

Calling his Inner Circle was simple. So simple. The merest brush of his awesome power. The slightest of touches against the Dark Mark. His mark. And they would come! And came they did, willy-nilly, wheeling and tumbling about, fighting for the right - as was only correct - to stand beside him, their rightful master.

He gestured amiably, indicating that his seven - seven, seven, seven - The magical number comforted him. His seven favorites were to sit at table with him. Not a round table, no. No, not like Arthur of Legend, poor Muggle fool. That would imply they were equals, which they were most definitely not. He grinned to himself at such a thought, a most terrifying sight. No, no, only he, only the magnificent Lord Voldemort, could sit at the head of this table. This table, rectangular and of dark ebony, around which his favorite seven, the magical seven - like his seven horcruxes - sat awaiting his orders.

Malfoy, Thickneese, Pettigrew, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery - all sat at this table, flanking along both sides. He graciously allowed the rat that was Pettigrew to sit at the far end. The disgusting creature _had_ , after all, aided his return.

His words, when he spoke, were like the washing sound of storm driven waves. "My children, I have plans, ways, of dealing with the Muggles and their Mudblood spawn."

Nods, muttered agreements, and encouragements rang around the table, and he kindly allowed it.

"Unlike Muggles and Mudbloods, we, you and I, know about honor and family," he stated. "Only we understand that family and loyalty are all important." He smiled as his followers sat taller, straighter in their seats, accepting his words as gospel.

He frowned then, throwing fear around the table. "What have you seen in the Daily Prophet about family lately?"

Pettigrew, eager to curry favor, piped up, his squeaky voice carrying the length of the table. "You mean the articles on the decline of magical birthrates? They fear our kind is dying out."

"Explain, man!" shouted Nott.

Avery, too, exclaimed, "Can this be true?"

Grinning at finding himself the sudden center of attention, Pettigrew elaborated. "The number of live births is greatly decreasing as more and more Pureblood women are having stillbirths. And of those children who survive, fewer of them are showing magical ability. In fact, Squib birthrates are at a historical high." He glanced briefly at the Dark Lord, who made a graceful gesture of encouragement. "Healers at St. Mungo's believe the problem is a genetic one due to the Pureblood tradition of marrying only other Purebloods."

Lucius had seen this first hand. Over the years, he and his beloved Narcissa had lost four children, and Draco, while handsome, was often a disappointment. He sniffed audibly and raised a cynical brow. "What are they suggesting to remedy the problem?" he asked coolly.

In a quiet tone, Crabbe added, "Is there anything that can be done? We simply cannot allow our world to die out!"

Pettigrew preened under their attention. Imitating his Lord, he gracefully gestured before him. "The Healers believe that only an infusion of new genes will solve the problem. They are suggesting that Purebloods marry and interbreed with Muggleborns - better still with Muggles - to save their bloodlines."

"How would you know of this?" Goyle scoffed in disgust.

"Our Lord has offered me a place of residence with Snape," Pettigrew answered. "He reads a lot, and I often ask his opinion."

"You ask Severus nothing," retorted Goyle. "You're terrified of Severus; you always have been. You're making this up! I know for a fact that you can't even read!

"I can too," shouted an apoplectic Pettigrew. "I just have some trouble. It's called dyslexia. It's a common enough reading problem." He added softly, "Snape has been helping me with my reading."

"Snape? He wouldn't help the likes of you," Goyle sneered.

Spittle flying, Wormtail replied angrily, "Yes, he is! I'm staying at Severus' home, and he is teaching me."

"Only because our Lord forces him to!"

Thickneese entered the discussion. "No matter, friends," he told them calmly, "what Pettigrew says is accurate. I've read the articles myself." Having settled the matter, he turned to his left. "My Lord, what plan do you have, for I know you must have one, to turn this to our advantage?"

As all eyes focused on Voldemort, he began to lay out his plan. "Goyle and Avery, you will begin a campaign in the newspapers and wireless to stir up the masses to near hysteria about this issue." He shifted his attention now to the others. "Crabbe, Nott, and Pettigrew, you will plan an attack upon Azkaban to free your brothers and sisters."

"Surely, there is more, my Lord," Malfoy said quietly.

"Oh, yes," Voldemort hissed, "Pius, Lucius, you will draft a most cunning piece of legislation, which you will then force through the Ministry. In short, we will declare that in order to save our kind from extinction, all Muggleborn witches between the ages of 18 and 30 must marry a Pureblood wizard between the ages of 30 and 80. These marriages must produce a pregnancy or child within the first year and another to follow within the next." He smiled as the full measure of what he had just devised sank in. "These marriages will supposedly be for the protection of the Mudbloods from the murderous and recently escaped Death Eaters."

"Yes, my Lord," Thickneese said slowly, "and if these marriages are required to take place via the most ancient of forms, these Mudblood females will then become chattel of their husbands, which will place them under our control."

Malfoy frowned. "I do hate to see our bloodlines polluted, my Lord," he said, "but if these facts from St. Mungo's are accurate, I must admit that I see no other alternative."

 **August 1995**

Severus Snape smiled at the Dark Lord. It was a mere quirk of the lip, a slight twisting of one corner of his upper lip. But the Dark Lord took it for a huge grin. "Yes, that's right, my brothers," he urged them with a gracefully extended arm, his wand held loosely between his fingers. "Even Severus smiles tonight."

As one, the dark group laughed at their Lord's humor; it would be death not to do so. "Tonight," the madman cried, "we will begin our crusade, our fight for our honor, for our rights!" He reached out an impossibly pale hand and placed it on the shoulder of Lucius Malfoy. Moonlight glinted on his hand, outlining his long, nearly skeletal fingers as they gripped Malfoy's cloak. "We begin this night with the purging and purification of our world!"

Cheers rang out and echoed around the standing circle of Death Eaters. The full moon cast its pale, cold light upon the old cemetery. In the early hours before dawn, a nearly impenetrable fog began to rise, ringing the circle of dark cloaked men and women. The cries of battle choked off immediately as the Dark Lord, with a careless flick of his wand, called for quiet. "Pius, Lucius, have you completed work on the legislation we discussed?"

"We have, my Lord," Thickneese was quick to answer.

"Excellent!" he replied. "You will both go now before dawn and force the Ministry to approve." He grinned, a terrifying sight.

"Yes, my Lord," Thickneese and Malfoy spoke in unison. They bowed and immediately apparated away.

"Crabbe, Nott," Voldemort called out. "You will lead a group to release my faithful followers from Azkaban."

Smiling with demented delight, Nott nodded briskly, and Crabbe bowed deeply to his master. Together they picked the majority of the night-clad followers to join their group before apparating away.

Again, the self-styled Dark Lord raised his voice and spoke. "Avery will form the rest of you into small groups of two or three. You will be given a list. Seek out these -" A quick wave of his wand produced a scattering of several small scrolls, which fluttered down like oily drops of sin. "- known blood traitors, Mudbloods, and Muggles, and kill them." The remaining Death Eaters crowded about, eagerly reaching for the lists.

"Pettigrew, Severus, you have a special task. Kill the Muggles," he told them grandly, "but do not harm the girl. Bring her to me. I have plans for her."

When the madman handed Severus a smaller scroll, the professor quickly unrolled it, scanning its contents immediately. He blinked and ground his back teeth. The name was Granger.

"Choose another to go with you, and take young Draco and Gregory as well. It is time to test them," the Dark Lord told them. He smiled grotesquely and waved a casual hand at the young men. Having delivered his commands, Lord Voldemort flicked his wand and vanished.

Draco, his hair glowing in the cooling moonlight of approaching dawn, shivered involuntarily. He gave Gregory a weak smile, but the other young man was grinning wildly with the promise of a great adventure.

With a greedy grasp, Pettigrew snatched at the paper as Severus tossed it towards him. "Goyle," he called, "Gregory Goyle, will you join us?"

"Of course, Pettigrew," the older Goyle answered. Approaching the small group, he clapped his son and namesake on the shoulder. "How many of us have the pleasure of teaching our sons direct, hmm?" He smiled benevolently at the boys. "And afterwards, I'll treat you all to drinks at the Three Broomsticks."

"Severus, Severus!" Pettigrew squealed with delight. A thin line of spittle escaped his mouth and slid down his chin. "Severus, you do know the girl's address, don't you?" He grabbed at the professor's sleeve, but taller man jerked away in disgust.

"What girl? Let me see that," Draco demanded as he snatched the paper from the hand of the one-time rat. With hooded eyes, the young man scanned the paper. Twice he read the contents while the older men looked on. "Our orders are to kill Granger's parents," he stated. One stormy grey eye twitched, and his Adam's apple bobbed. "I mean, we are to kill the Muggles, the Mudblood's parents," he restated.

"Brilliant!" Gregory responded, playfully shoving his friend.

Draco smiled tightly and clenched his back teeth. "Yes," he replied as if by rote, "we'll kill her parents."

Professor Snape's eyes narrowed. Draco didn't appear as keen on killing as Gregory and his father. Perhaps there was still some hope for the boy. He turned and, peering down his long nose at Pettigrew, retrieved the paper from the boy. Producing a ball point pen from the cavernous pockets of his robe, he quickly scribbled something on it. Then he thrust the paper at Pettigrew. "Here is the address. If any of you see the girl, use the _dormious_ spell to put her to sleep," he instructed them, noting with satisfaction the look of relief in Draco's eyes.

"Why's that, Severus?" questioned Pettigrew. Suspicion clouded his eyes. His nose twitched with the phantom whiskers he had worn for more than a decade.

Severus' face clouded up and lightning gathered in his dark, dark eyes. Draco and Gregory had seen that look before. They flinched and stepped back from the coming storm. The angry man snatched the paper out of his questioner's hand and shoved it into his pocket. "Because, you fool," Snape spat, "if the girl sees me with _you_ -" Repugnance rolled off his tongue with the last word. "- she'll realize that I am a Death Eater." With a swirl of his ink black robes, he strode away from them.

A frown formed between Peter's beady little eyes, but before he could utter a sound, the elder Goyle spoke up. "Pettigrew, the girl needs to believe he's loyal to Dumbledore. He must maintain his cover so he can keep spying for our Lord," he explained. "Besides," he added, "didn't our Lord just say he wanted the girl unharmed?"

Pettigrew nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, that makes sense," he muttered. "On the count of three, we'll apparate to the Muggle's home. The address is 1691 Bumblebee Lane. One, two, three!"

With a firecracker pop, Severus apparated into the Granger's back yard. He knew he had only a few minutes before Draco, Pettigrew, and the Goyles realized why they were unable to apparate to the right place. He had no time to lose; the sun was already rising. He must find the girl now, or it would be too late.

Muttering an unlocking spell under his breath, Severus simply opened the kitchen door and stepped into the home. He didn't expect to see both Doctor Grangers. Apparently like the girl, Hermione's parents were early risers. Dr. Sue Granger, dressed and ready for work, was skillfully whipping up a breakfast fry. Wearing a grey business suit, Dr. James Granger was sitting at the kitchen table drinking his morning cup of tea and reading the latest edition of Log Home Living.

Severus' unannounced entrance was met with raised eyebrows. "The girl," he urged in a gravelly tone, "where's your daughter?"

Frowning, Jim Granger, his deep brown eyes taking in Severus from head to toe, stood slowly, smoothly to his feet. "And just who the hell -"

"He's Hermione's teacher, the spy," Sue said with a calm façade as she turned off the stove. She set the frying pan aside and laid a soft hand on her husband's shoulder. "What's wrong?" she demanded.

"They're on the way here now to kill you both and take the girl," Severus told them bluntly. "I've managed to delay them for a few minutes, but - "

Wand drawn, Hermione slammed open the kitchen door. "Someone breached my wards!" she yelled breathlessly. Seeing that it was only her professor standing with her parents, she smiled sheepishly and slipped her wand into the waist band of her pajama bottoms. "I'm sorry, Professor Snape," she told him as she tucked a wild strand of hair behind her ear. "I just felt my wards -"

Hermione's next words died in her mouth as Snape grabbed her by the arms. "I'll get her away to safety," he calmly told her parents. "I am sorry -"

"What?" Hermione frowned. She attempted to pull her arm out of his grasp, but he only tightened his grip. "Let me go," she demanded. "You're hurting me." Her eyes darted wildly back and forth, her imagination running rampant.

"No, Kitten," Jim said tenderly. His words were soft, but his tone contained a steely edge. Removing her gently from Snape's grasp, he hugged her fiercely, cradling her head to his chest.

Sue pulled her only child from her husband's embrace and hugged her soothingly before stepping back. Her pale blue eyes pooled with tears as she kissed her daughter fervently on the brow. "You will go with the professor, and you will obey him. Do you understand?"

As she let go of their precious daughter, Jim Granger turned coffee colored eyes on Snape. He shoved his daughter into Severus' arms. "You will get her out of danger and take care of her." It was an order.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! It was the unmistakable sound of apparition. Hermione's eyes flew open. She knew with overwhelming clarity what was happening. "Death Eaters!" she whispered harshly. She swallowed convulsively, panic threatening to set in. "You can apparate us all out of here, can't you?"

"No, Kitten," Jim told her, "he can't." Jim Granger reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a pistol. Methodically, he checked his Walther PPK.

A knock on the door sounded loudly, echoing in Hermione's ears; she was nearly panicked. "No!" she whispered, and the sound was a sandpapery rasp. She turned and clutched Snape's robes. Tears flowed freely from her eyes, as she begged him in whispered tones, "Please, please, you have to save them, too."

"Hermione?" Jim called out loudly towards the door, "did you forget your key again? Hold on, Kitten. Don't beat the door down. I'll let you in." All the while, he continued with deadly calm to check his gun.

"Hermione," her mother told her gently, matter-of-factly, "if these Death Eaters find all of us gone, they'll know your professor warned us. They'll know he's a spy." She smiled tenderly as she explained. "If his cover is blown now, the whole war could be lost."

Jim Granger, his cold, dark eyes blazing, stood resolutely with one hand on the door knob and one hand holding his gun. "Sue, when I open the door, be prepared." He gave Snape one last glare and nodded at Hermione. "Get her the hell out of here, now." Then with utter coolness, Jim opened the door.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many, many thanks for my amazing beta, Selek!

Please review.

CHAPTER 2

"You gave us the wrong address! And, then you didn't show up!" Pettigrew accused. He whimpered piteously on the foyer floor of Malfoy Manor as a young Malfoy house elf tended his wounded leg. "You set us up!"

"Where were you, Severus?" asked the Dark Lord. His quiet, calm tones were in great contrast to the angry red flicker in his eyes.

The permanent frown lines on Snape's face deepened. He shook his head. "I don't know what you mean, my Lord," he replied slowly. "I went to the Granger's address, but they -" he pointed to Pettigrew and Draco, "- were not there." Turning, he used his best academic voice and quizzed Draco, "Where did you go?"

Draco sat on the floor. His now dirty and disheveled blond head rested on his up-drawn knees. Slowly the boy raised his head, bloody cheeked and bleary eyed. "We went to 1691 Bubblebee Lane," he replied mechanically. "You weren't there, and -"

"And so we apparated back here," Pettigrew charged. "Ow! You stupid elf!" He kicked at the creature, but missed. "You told us the wrong address. We had to return to the cemetery and try to trace your apparition trail!"

"Again, I ask, Severus, where were you?" the Dark Lord's tone had grown noticeably colder and deadlier.

Severus dipped his head in submission to his master. "I went to the correct address, my Lord. I told that idiot," he pointed towards Pettigrew, "the girl's address was 1961 Puddledee Lane." He reached into his robe and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, which he quickly spread out and offered up as evidence.

"Draco," Voldemort growled.

Draco climbed wearily to his feet. He took the paper from his teacher's outstretched hand. Reading it, the young man frowned angrily. He shot at hateful glare at Pettigrew. "It says 1961 Puddledee Lane just as Professor Snape stated." With shaking hands, the young man handed the paper to Lord Voldemort.

Slowly, Voldemort took the paper and starred at it. After a brief moment, he lifted his bloody gaze to that of his spy. "What happened, Severus?" he asked. His tone was still cool, but it was not the icy anger of before.

Again, Snape dipped his head in supplication. "I followed our plan, my Lord," he stated carefully. I apparated with the others - or so I thought - to the Granger's home." He paused to glower at Pettigrew. "I waited behind the house for the others, but after ten minutes, I left and apparated back to the cemetery. No one was there, so I went to Hogsmeade because Goyle said something about purchasing drinks. When I could not find them, I returned here."

The Dark Lord tilted his head to the left, lifted his chin, and stared at him. "The Goyles were killed," he told his spy. "The Muggle," he spat the word, "had a weapon, a gun, and he killed both father and son."

"But we revenged them!" insisted Pettigrew. "We killed those Muggles."

At the news Severus bowed his head. The Granger girl was frantic when he left her at the door of Minerva's Hogsmeade's cottage. She would be inconsolable now. Swiftly, he mastered himself and raised his head. Keeping up the façade of the loyal Death Eater, he murmured, "Young Gregory was my student, and his father was a school mate of mine."

"Yes, they will be missed," Voldemort agreed. "I do not blame you entirely for this loss, Severus. Had you been there, I have no doubt that this mission would not have ended in their deaths. Make no mistake that you will pay for your lack of participation. However, the majority of blame rests with that fool." Whipping around with shuddering flutter of his Plutonian robes, the Dark Lord pointed his wand at a suddenly cringing Pettigrew. "You have failed me yet again, Wormtail. This time you've caused the death of your brothers. You have outlived your usefulness. _Avada Kadavra_!"

"Hermione!" Minerva McGonagall cried, as she tied the belt of her housecoat. Quickly, she grasped the hysterical younger woman by the arms and pulled her into the cottage. Automatically, the older witch shut and locked her door, sealing it with rock solid magical wards. "Through here, child," she commanded. The girl was an incoherent mess.

Gently, she propelled Hermione into an overstuffed green chintz chair besides the window and flicked a small fire into life in the fireplace. "Sosty, bring some passionflower tea," she ordered. A beckoning finger pulled a matching chair next to Hermione's, and as Minerva McGonagall slowly eased herself into the chair, a small table heavily laden with tea pot, cups, and ginger newt biscuits appeared with a soft pop.

With calm, practiced movements, Minerva poured a cup of tea and pushed it into Hermione's hands. The young woman had stopped crying, but she now appeared in a shocked state of numbness. "Drink," older woman insisted.

Automatically, Hermione wrapped both hands around the delicate thistle patterned cup and raised it to her lips. She took a long sip of the steaming liquid. When the fragrant beverage hit her tongue, her eyes opened wide and her gaze shot upwards to find those brilliant green eyes of her favorite professor assessing her critically. She swallowed slowly, mechanically and moved to set the fragile cup in its saucer.

"All of it," McGonagall told her. Automatically, Hermione obeyed, giving Minerva time to assess her star pupil. Her red blotched face, red rimmed eyes, and un-dried tears told no more than the obvious - the girl had been crying frantically. Muggle pajamas, no house robe, no shoes, not even her wand. Minerva pursed her lips and shook her head.

Calmer now that the hot, sedative tea was in her, Hermione set the empty cup down on its saucer. She turned a mild eye on her professor. Slowly, she shook her head in denial, and again the tears began to puddle in her soft brown eyes.

"Now, enough of that," McGonagall told her gently but firmly, "at least not until you've told me what's going on."

"My parents!" Hermione rasped out. She gripped the arms of the chair, her entire body beginning to quiver with impotent rage and horror. "Death Eaters came to k-"

"Where's your wand?" McGonagall had to stop her, and quickly, from again becoming hysterical.

Hermione frowned with confusion. "My wand?" she muttered to herself. Her eyes darted from side to side, and she bit her lower lip. Puzzlement glazed her face.

"Yes, child," the teacher responded briskly. "A witch should never be caught without her wand." She tilted her head and watched the girl slowly trying to solve the mystery of her missing wand. Oh, there was no doubt what was ailing the girl, and Minerva felt a gut-wrenching sympathy for her. Voldemort - damn him! - had ordered the death of her parents. Heaven help her, but she'd seen this before. No doubt she'd be seeing more of it - and all too soon.

The tea was doing its job. Hermione seemed truly to be relaxing despite herself. "Oh," she muttered, "here it is." She reached to her side and slid the length of vine wood from her waist band. She set it on the table with the tea. Her eyes flickered up to her teacher's face. "Professor Snape saved me, but he couldn't save my parents," she whispered. "He brought me here."

McGonagall nodded, her face grim. "Aye, I thought as much." Reaching forward, she took the girl's hands, still warm from the tea cup. "I'm so sorry, child. You know there was nothing you could have done, don't you?"

Soft tears rolled down Hermione's cheeks, but she was no longer sobbing frantically. "Yes, I know," she murmured. "I don't know what -" She paused mid-sentence and looked helplessly at the older woman.

McGonagall stood from her chair and pulled Hermione up as well. She pocketed Hermione's forgotten wand before linking arms with the younger woman. Together they walked down a short hall and entered Minerva's guest bedroom. "You'll stay here," she told her in her teacher's best no-nonsense voice. "We'll figure out the rest of it later." Tenderly, she helped the girl into the bed and tucked her in as if Hermione were a child. Then she closed the door with a quiet snick.

Her mind a whirl - there were a million things she needed to do - Minerva McGonagall marched hurriedly into her own bedroom. She slipped out of her robe and night gown. Once dressed in a forest green skirt and pale green blouse and her favorite ivory pumps, she called her house elf. "Sosty?"

"Sosty busy, Missy Min. I's Grazey," the young house elf bobbed a curtsey. "I's training with Sosty, waiting to get my own Miss to serve. Please let me help Missy Min." Her lime green eyes flashed with eagerness, and she was fairly shaking with excitement.

Minerva stared at the young elf momentarily. "Aye, Grazey, you can help." She savagely brushed her silver streaked black hair before twisting it into a bun with rapid, practiced movements. "Go find my brother, Robbie," she instructed the elf. "Tell him I'll be needing his legal advice, and I'll expect him around noon. I'll also need lunch for three. Please get the girl up in time to be presentable."

"Grazey be knowing just what to do," the elf smiled, nodded her head, and popped out.

Heaving a soul weary sigh, Minerva headed straight for her living room fireplace. This was one time she did not look forward to speaking with Albus.

Arthur Weasley liked getting to work early on Monday mornings. It gave him an extra few hours on the clock, which really helped out on paydays, and the quiet was a blissful welcome from the riotous weekends at home. It also gave him an opportunity to snoop into any possible Death Eater activity that had happened over the weekend.

Only two weeks ago, he had successfully installed a set of the twins' Extendable Ears in Minister Fudge's office. When the boys had shown him their latest brilliant piece of mischief, he had warned them what would happen if their mother found out. Of course, he had confiscated a pair for himself, and with a bit of tinkering, he had charmed them into a magical version of the Muggle walking-talkers. Now the Ears worked for distance and were adapted to perk up for any mention of unsavory, underhanded doings.

What he had overheard this morning more than made up for the fact that he was eavesdropping, and it shocked him to the core. Once he was sure he had heard everything from the Minister's early morning impromptu meeting with Malfoy and Thickneese, he carefully pocketed the receiving Ears' end and locked his office. He had to see Dumbledore immediately and in person.

The elevators were rather full this Monday morning, and Arthur was obliged to take the second car, which, as luck would have it, was with Malfoy and Minister Fudge. Oh, there was absolutely no doubt that their immoral plan would be passed into law since it was obviously the desire of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but if fate had offered him the perfect opportunity to slow down the process and irritate that pompous Malfoy at the same time, Arthur Weasley was going to use it.

"Good morning, Minister Fudge," Arthur chirped happily. He added just a tad too loudly, "And to you too, Lucius." He clapped a hand on the arrogant man's back staggering him slightly.

Minister Fudge, face pressed into a scroll, looked up briefly. "Weasley," he muttered absently. "Important legislation. No time to talk." Again, he gave his full attention to the offensive scroll.

Malfoy, grabbing at the wall for support, deigned not to answer. He merely sniffed and wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something festering.

Arthur smiled, leaned closer to the younger man, and squinted. He reached out and grabbed the cuffs of Malfoy's new robes, rubbing the material between his fingers. "Are these new robes? Lovely color for you, yeah, ivory." He looked up with a grin on his face. "The material is quite fine. Self-ironing? Molly would love that."

Malfoy jerked back as if he had been scalded. "No," he intoned coldly, "We have elves that do our ironing." Gingerly, he pulled his sleeve from Weasley's fingers, and he moved as far away as he could under the pretense of pressing the elevator button again. But the damage was done in the form of ink smudges on the sleeves his new robes. It wouldn't be until later that he saw the ink stained palm print of Arthur Weasley on his shoulder.

"Uh, Minister Fudge," Arthur suddenly called out. He lurched forward, seeming to trip on his own feet, and he bumped into both men with enough force to knock the scroll to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" he cried out. "Let me help!"

"See here, Weasley, you're stepping on it. Oh, look what you've done," Fudge fussed. "You've gone and torn it." He snatched the now illegible pieces from Arthur.

"Merlin's balls!" Malfoy swore. "You bumbling oaf!"

His blue eyes watering, Arthur Weasley looked the very picture of contrition. "I'm so, so sorry, Minister Fudge. I tripped, and I'm," he said so mildly with his shoulders hunched and his head hanging, "I'm - What can I do to help?"

"Just tell me what you want," Fudged snapped angrily.

Giving the Minister his best sad, puppy imitation - It always worked on Molly - he said, "I need to see Dumbledore up at Hogwarts this morning about the twins. You know how rambunctious boys can get."

Fudge snorted and heaved a sigh of irritation. "Yes, yes, by all means, go see what those two hellions are up to now. Lucius, do you have a copy of this by any chance?"


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many, many thanks for my amazing beta, Selek!

Please review.

 **CHAPTER 3**

"Yes, Albus," Minerva McGonagall insisted. "I received a confirmation patronus from Alastor. Both of her parents are dead, but they managed to kill Gregory Goyle and his son. The Muggle authorities are calling it a home invasion. Aurors have already claimed the bodies of the Goyles."

Albus Dumbledore, from his private sitting room, ground his teeth in frustration. He quickly darted a glance to someone beside him, whom Minerva couldn't see. "I am afraid, Minerva," he told her, "that I know what he is up to." He blinked behind his half-moon spectacles and pursed his lips. "As Head of House, you can accept legal guardianship of the girl until she is of age. Can you keep Miss Granger with you for the summer? If not, I'll ask Poppy-"

"I'm already ahead of you," Minerva informed him. "My brother, Robbie, is coming later today, and he'll make the arrangements - unless Hermione would rather a different guardian."

"Good." Nodding all the while, the old wizard removed his spectacles and wiped them clean. Resettling them on his face he added with a hard edge to his voice, "Minerva, Tom is up to something very, very…" he paused, searching for the right word, "wrong. No-" he held up a hand forestalling her questions, "I can't tell you right now. But the girl is at great risk. Keep her close to you at all times. Help her with the arrangements. Do whatever -"

Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Minerva, do _whatever_ it takes to keep the girl safe. It would be best if you and she returned to Hogwarts as soon as possible, too."

"All right, Albus," Minerva replied. Her green eyes were hard and sharp as glass. "I'll see to it that the girl is safe."

Closing the floo, Albus returned to his chair and shook his head. For a few moments, the wizard simply sat staring in disbelief at the flames. "You heard?"

Arthur Weasley nodded. "They are after all Muggleborns, Hermione in particular."

"Tom must be hoping to control Harry through her." The old man sighed heavily. "And his followers will have control over all Muggleborn witches through this legislation."

"From what I overheard this 'marriage law' is to go into effect September 1st," Arthur added. He leaned back in his seat and scrubbed at his face with his hands. "The law is written to appear as if the Ministry is protecting the Muggleborns while offering the Purebloods a chance to re-establish their dying bloodlines. And, it will be seen as a way to suppress blood prejudice."

Wearily, Dumbledore nodded. "Not to mention the fact that St. Mungo's has recently published several articles noting that there has been a surge in squib births. There's been quite a hullaballoo about it all."

"All the Ministry needs is a major reduction in the magical population to make it appear that we magical folk are all dying out," added Arthur. "That would absolutely insure that this piece of trash legislature is passed in the interest of self-preservation."

"Which means," Dumbledore stated gravely, "that Tom is planning on killing any wizard or witch who doesn't support him."

The funeral had been a miserable affair. Hermione had allowed Barrister McGonagall to guide her through the mechanics of it. And she'd taken what comfort she could from Professor McGonagall and the rest of the Hogwarts staff. But, here and now, she simply stood alone and bereft. She was thankful that the vicar and the attendees had finally left the churchyard, leaving her in solitude with her grief.

"Miss Granger?" Severus Snape called, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Startled, she looked up at him, her brown eyes bloodshot and awash in tears. Stepping closer to her, he spoke hesitantly, "I am truly sorry for your loss." He turned his gaze away from freshly turned graves where her parents lay. "It's been nearly twenty years since I buried my mother," he confided, "and I miss her still. Perhaps, had she lived, I would have chosen a different path."

Hermione was shocked at his confession. This man, who stood next to her, was a completely different man from her sour Potions Professor. He seemed - for that one short moment - vulnerable, approachable, human. Swallowing the gargantuan lump in her throat, she rasped out one question. "When does it ever stop hurting?"

He chanced a glance at her before turning back towards McGonagall and Dumbledore, who stood a respectful distance away. "Do you want an honest answer?" He raised an expressive brow.

That brought a bittersweet smile to her lips. "Of course." She sniffled and wiped her nose with a crushed tissue.

"Never," he replied succinctly. Without ceremony, he thrust a clean linen handkerchief into her hands. "But," he added, "the pain will lessen with time. Don't gape at me like that." He frowned and then inhaled deeply. When he spoke again, he voice was less sharp than before. "It _will_ lessen with time, girl. Do not set yourself on a course for revenge; that only breeds bitterness. I should know."

"What should I do then?" The anguish in her voice made him flinch.

"Stay busy," he told her. "Choose some positive goal, and devote yourself to it."

Hermione's brow furrowed in concentration. "Like what?"

"Must I do everything for you?" he demanded loudly and angrily. "Oh, stop your frowning, Minerva. You'd make Medusa wince," he attacked the older witch. "And why in the world made you decided to wear that color?

"Must you be so rude to everyone, Severus? Have you no respect?" she hissed.

He sniffed and glared down his long nose at her. Then he turned his back on her and looked at Hermione. The girl held his handkerchief to her mouth, but she wasn't crying. No, she was laughing. His lips twitched upwards in a short smile just for her. He bowed and turned then to include Minerva. "I will expect you tomorrow morning at nine sharp in the lab," he barked at her. "Do not be late."

"That man!" Minerva growled, as she watched him exit the cemetery on his high horse.

"Oh," Hermione cried, "he really wasn't being his usual self." She paused. "I mean, he was a bit kind." Again, she paused, looking very thoughtful.

Minerva smiled gently. "Och, I know that lass," she told her ward softly. "He's a complicated man, that one." She put and arm around Hermione and pulled her close. "And, I'll tell you a secret. His bark is far worse than his bite." She winked conspiratorially. "Now, let's to home."

Hermione lay asleep on Minerva's settee, her head on the older witch's lap. Minerva stroked her curly hair absently. Molly had offered to take care of the girl, but the burrow, with all its noise and gaiety, was not the place for her just now. She needed rest, especially today after the funeral.

"Minerva?" Albus called softly as he opened her door. On tiptoes, he crept into her rooms.

"In here," she whispered back. "Be quiet, Albus. The child's nerves were frayed, so Poppy gave her a very mild dreamless sleeping potion."

He settled down in his usual chair opposite the pair. For a long while he merely watched them. What a pity it was that Minerva had never had a child of her own. If only he had stepped up all those years ago and had asked her what had always been in his heart! What absolute irony that he, the quintessential Gryffindor, was such an utter coward! Yes, maybe then things would be different, and it would have been their daughter who lay asleep in Minerva's lap. Sadness at the thought caused his eyes to suddenly blur. He ducked his head and removed his spectacles, wiping them on his robe. "Bah," he complained with a soft snort, "I can never seem to remove -"

Sosty, Minerva's house elf, appeared soundlessly at his elbow and took the glasses from him. Muttering under her breath about the incongruity of so powerful a wizard being unable to perform so simple a task, the little elf cleaned his lenses and returned them. Then, shaking her head, she vanished as quietly as she appeared.

"Well," he muttered as he inspected the gleaming glass, "that was something."

Minerva smiled warmly at him. "Sosty does like you, you know. She's said so quite loudly and more than once," she told him.

"I'm honored," he answered solemnly as he peered over the tops of his newly clean glasses.

"Aye, as well you should be," she retorted with soft smile. "Did you know that she's responsible for the training of young house elves? Her latest apprentice, Grazey, has just passed the House Elf equivalent of the N.E.W.T's." Minerva ducked her chin at the sleeping girl. "Grazey, it seems has assigned herself to Hermione."

Using the leg of his spectacles, Albus pointed towards Hermione. "How is she?"

"Och, as well as can be expected," Minerva replied. "Poor child. She'll be seeing Poppy once a week to talk through the grief, and I've told her that she's to be my personal assistant at the school. She's to help me in meeting with the families of all incoming Muggleborns." She hesitated a moment. "I've given her permission to address me by name."

He nodded. "A very good idea, my dear."

"Yes," she smiled tenderly down at the girl, "even Severus is helping. He told her in no uncertain terms that she was expected to help him with summer brewing."

"He wasn't rude to the girl, was he?"

Looking into his concerned blue eyes, she nearly laughed aloud. "Of course he was rude," she countered. "He's Severus. Oh, but don't worry, she wasn't offended. We explained to her how that was just Severus' way of showing concern."

His nod sent his beard to wagging. "I've a small gift for Miss Granger." Dumbledore fished around in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a cameo pin like the one Minerva wore on special occasions. "I know I should have asked before taking your McGregor brooch," he told her apologetically, "but I wanted to have a similar one made for Miss Granger." He opened the locket to show her two magical photos of Hermione's parents, smiling at her.

"Oh, Albus," she exclaimed in a whisper. "How very thoughtful of you!"

A rosy tint crept up the old man's cheeks. "Yes, well…" He trailed off and was silent for a moment. "I hope you don't mind, but I left your brooch with the jeweler for cleaning. I'll return it shortly." He rose from the chair, his knees cracking. "I'll just let myself out. Oh, by the by," he added as he held the door, "Peter Pettigrew's body was dumped at the Ministry of Magic today. Aurors have been unable to trace how it got there."

Her hand stilled on the girl's head. "No, Albus," she whispered hoarsely, "are you sure?"

He pulled his lips into a grim line. "Yes, I'm afraid so. However, this means that Sirius is now exonerated of all charges. He can at last be free."

"Thank you, Albus," she told him, tears glistening in her eyes. "Good night."

August 14, 1995

Filius Flitwick, orange and black shirt sleeves rolled up, sat at a table in the staffroom writing furiously with both hands. His black trimmed gray Teddy Boy jacket was hanging casually on the back of his chair. Several newspapers, The Daily Prophet, The Quibbler, and many Muggle papers as well, were scattered around him. Even though it was just past eight in the morning, owls of all sorts and sizes swooped in, delivering messages, at regular intervals.

Minerva McGonagall sat sipping her morning tea and nibbling at toast as she watched her ambidextrous colleague with amazement. "I simply cannot fathom how he does that," she whispered to her friend Pomona Sprout. "It makes me dizzy just watching him."

"He is impressive, isn't he?" Pomona smiled into her tea.

She raised her eyebrows meaningfully at her friend. "You'd know more about his attributes than I."

"Don't I just," giggled Sprout. Although she and the head of Ravenclaw had been married for nearly thirty years, the two of them still acted like newlyweds.

"Please, Pomona, no more of the sordid details," Minerva insisted. "My ears are still ringing from hearing of your trip to Paris."

Peals of laughter escaped her friend. Then with a sobering thought, she added, "Did you ever get things settled with Hermione?"

"For the most part, yes," Minerva replied. "I've accepted legal custody of her, but we still are in the process of settling her parents' estate." She continued to stare at Flitwick's hypnotic performance, not the least of which was enhanced by his fashion. "My brother, Robbie, has kept both a Muggle and a magical barrister's license. He's made arrangements for us this afternoon to complete some paperwork and dispose of her parents' estate. I'm not looking forward to the trip at all."

Pomona set down her teacup and reached out to touch her friend's arm. "But what about her emotional well-being?" she asked softly.

Turning to face her best friend, Minerva settled her teacup in its saucer, a serious expression in her green eyes. "She's still grieving deeply, but she's doing as well as can be expected. Poppy is keeping a close watch on her, and Severus and I have been keeping her busy." She chuckled. "I'd never have thought it, but the two of them are getting along quite well."

Pomona raised her brows. "What a pity Hermione isn't older! Severus could certainly use a strong woman in his life."

Minerva grinned. "That he does, Pomona." The two of them dissolved into girlish giggles.

A warm smile graced Pomona Sprout's face as she patted her friend's arm. "You know, Hermione is very much like you," she told her sincerely," and I'm glad."

Minerva blinked and scowled. Such shows of emotion made her uncomfortable. "Hush, now," she chided the older woman, "here come Albus and Severus." She twisted in her chair to watch the two men enter the staff room. "Poor Severus," she leaned towards her pal and whispered, "he looks positively peaky."

"As always," Sprout whispered back, "but doesn't Albus look splendid?" She nudged Minerva with her elbow. It was no secret to Pomona that her best friend cared deeply for the headmaster.

"Oh, hush!" With a rosy blush, Minerva glared a warning at a chuckling Sprout. But he did look quite fetching today with his pale blue shirt and grey linen plus fours, his beard tied with a matching blue silk ribbon.

Severus Snape, dressed in black slacks and white shirt, followed in closely behind Dumbledore. He poured himself a huge mug of tea - no sugar or cream - before dropping like a stone into his seat. His dark eyes appeared bruised and weary, but after a long gulp of the hot tea, he sat up and squared his shoulders, ready to meet head-on this year's doomed head of house meeting.

Dumbledore spoke a brief welcome to his four heads of house as they settled themselves at the table. "I have very bad news for you," he told them bluntly. "Earlier this summer, I learned that Voldemort - I'm sorry, Severus, - Tom Riddle has begun what he is calling the 'reclamation of the Wizarding world'." He paused and scanned each face around the table. "If we have any hope of winning this war - and make no mistake, we are now in the middle of a war - we must be able to trust one another. Completely. We must all pull together. I must know that you are all with me."

Filius pushed his spectacles up on his small nose. "Albus," he stated forcefully, "I made you my unbreakable vow during the first war. I have never withdrawn it."

"Now, Filius," Albus told him with genuineness, "I do not doubt you, or anyone here at this table, but I cannot stress enough the importance of knowing who truly supports our cause and of sticking together."

The diminutive man's eyes hardened. "If you honestly believe this year will be that bad, I think I'll start a dueling club." He glanced at the Snape. "What say you, Severus? Want to help with a _real_ dueling club?"

Severus snorted a chuckle of amusement. "I'm afraid I'll be too busy with other duties this year, Filius, but perhaps you can see if St. Mungo's will release Lockhart to help."

Pomona comforted her sputtering husband by patting his hands. "Now, Filius, you know Severus was just winding you up." She grinned at the younger man, her eyes twinkling. "Besides, I think it would be better for one of the students to head up this club."

"They do not need a club at all," Severus responded acidly. "They need real life battle skills. Neither the Dark Lord nor his followers are likely to abide by club rules."

Sprout's face and tone turned suddenly sober. "I do hate the idea of children fighting a war. It isn't right."

"No, it isn't," agreed Minerva, "but Severus is. Students they may be, but they will fight, at least the older ones will. The sixth and seventh years are old enough to make their own decisions."

"Agreed," Filius said firmly. "If we are, indeed, headed towards another war, the older students will need real battle practice. I'll be happy to guide them, in secret, of course."

"Have Hermione help with that," Minerva said. "The girl is smart, brave, and capable, and she needs something to keep her busy."

"Yes," Flitwick replied slowly, the wheels behind his eyes rapidly turning the thought over. "But I think it would be best if the idea seemed to come from Harry. He needs to build leadership skills, and it may come easier if Miss Granger convinces him to teach the other students how to fight," Flitwick added.

"Excellent," Dumbledore declared. "And, Pomona, could you create some contingency plan for handling the younger children when Tom attacks the school?" He gave a sharp glance around the table at three shocked faces. "Oh, yes, I have it on good authority that he fully intends to take over the school."

"I will," the Hufflepuff affirmed, "but I think we ought to allow the fourth and fifth form students the chance to work with Poppy. Surely, when war comes we will be in need medical personnel. Perhaps Poppy could start a Healer's club?"

"Another excellent idea," the Headmaster stated. He frowned. "Now, however, we also have some serious legal issues to handle." He paused a moment before handing out a scroll to each of them. "I don't have to tell you that this is all confidential. The law was pushed through a secret session of the Wizengamot two days ago while I was attending Harry's hearing, so I was unable to attend and fight against it."

Except for the rustling of scrolls, the room fell silent while the Heads of House read.

"How dare they?"

"They are children! Albus, this is medieval!"

Dumbledore nodded. "The law will go into effect September first. Worse, it will affect two of our seventh year girls immediately. Penelope Clearwater is already 18, and Lisa Turpin will turn 18 in early September."

Trembling with rage, Flitwick's face turned an apoplectic purple. "Clearwater is one of our brightest students! To turn her into a, a…" he stammered with fury "a broodmare is -"

"Lisa?" cried Pomona as tears filled her eyes. "She has already been accepted for healer's training in the spring of this coming year! I'll not have it!"

When Severus spoke, his words were bitter. "Yes, but look at it from the public's point of view. Fewer and fewer magical children are being born each year, and a great many of those who are born show obvious signs of inbreeding."

"That's because the so-called 'Pureblood' families will only intermarry with other 'Pureblood' families," Minerva interrupted him hotly.

"All the more reason to enact such a law," Severus pointed out. "The law is designed, on the surface, to force Pureblood families to stop their near-incestuous interbreeding, which will, in turn, reduce the number of birth defects in children."

"Surely, you don't support this piece of -"

"And," Severus continued undeterred, "after all, if everyone has Muggle grandparents, it will eventually end the prejudice against Muggles-"

"Severus!"

He continued. "Furthermore, this legislation will insure that Muggleborns, by marrying into these Pureblood families, will be protected against the Dark Lord and his followers."

"That's a lie," Minerva's voice was deadly calm. "A great many of his followers are of the Pureblood families. This is no more than a power play to control Muggleborns and stop them from fighting back."

"It is indeed," Severus agreed gravely. "However, the fact remains that the magical population is dwindling significantly. And with the coming war and the casualties it will bring, our kind may become extinct within the next hundred years."

Flitwick frowned. "Albus, this is a real predicament, isn't it? Is magic in danger of dying out?"

The great wizard shook his head. "Filius, I don't know," he admitted, "but this law, regardless of its intent, will certainly play upon those fears."


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many, many thanks for my amazing beta, Selek!

 **Please review.**

CHAPTER 4

Albus Dumbledore inhaled deeply and relaxed slightly on the exhale. "The law simply states that as of September first of this year all Muggleborn witches between the ages of 18 and 40 must marry a Pureblood wizard between the ages of 30 and 80. The couple must produce a child or a pregnancy within the first year of marriage. A second child must be produced within the next two years. Marriages must be formalized with the ancient Wizarding rites -"

"Which will render the witch chattel, the personal property of her husband with no rights of her own," Minerva added sourly.

Nodding, Albus continued, "The next phase of the law will begin January 1, 1996, when the age requirements will be lowered to include all Muggleborn witches between the ages of 17 and 40. This will mean that not only must we assist Misses Stimpson and Clearwater in this marriage mart, but also we must be on the lookout for proper husbands for Miss Hannah Abbott as well as Miss Hermione Granger before they will need one next school year."

"There," shouted Flitwick, "there's the real target. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named knows that if he can get Miss Granger in his clutches, then he can control Harry!" He swept his arms around like windmills. "The rest is just icing on the cake for his Death Eaters!"

Pomona patted Filius on the back soothingly. "All right, Albus," she said softly, "we'll pull the girls aside, give them practical advice, and do our best to screen suitors."

"Albus," Minerva McGonagall said as she shifted in her seat, "I'm afraid we have another problem - Septima Vector." When the headmaster frowned, she continued. "Septima Vector is in her late twenties, and she is Muggle-born."

Silence rang throughout the room. The old wizard rubbed a weary hand across his face while Sprout and Flitwick exchanged glances. "Severus, would you be willing to marry her?" Albus asked quietly.

"No! Absolutely not!" The violence with which the Potions Master burst out made them all jump.

Minerva McGonagall narrowed her eyes and appraised her colleague. "I agree with Severus," she added briskly.

Filius suggested with a deep sigh. "We simply must keep Septima on staff. She's a staunch member of the Order, the best in her field, and wickedly accurate in a duel. We can't afford to lose her."

"Perhaps, Remus Lupin?" Minerva suggested. "Or Sirius Black? Since he was cleared of that murder charge when Pettigrew's body was found, he is quite the eligible bachelor now."

"Definitely Black," Pomona stated flatly. "The two of them should get on well together, I'd wager."

With a grunt of disgust, Severus muttered acerbically, "That's true enough."

"Besides," Pomona added undeterred, "I believe that before long Mr. Lupin will be spoken for though he isn't aware of it yet." She smiled slyly.

Albus cleared his throat. "Well, clearly we have a good start on the matter. I know I can count on each of you to help with these matters." He stood from his chair. "If there is nothing more, I'll call this meeting to a close. We'll meet again as a full faculty next week. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with Minister Fudge about the vacancy for a Defense teacher." Quickly, he stood and left the room.

"Severus," Minerva called. She caught him fairly by the arm. "I'm supposed to take Hermione to Muggle London today."

"How wonderful for you!" He pulled lose from her grasp in a pointed manner. "I have things to do, Minerva. Get to the point."

The older woman nodded and clasped her hands. "The young woman has a meeting with the Muggle authorities today to settle her parents' estate." She looked down at her wrinkled hands, holding them up to the light. "There's the dental practice and the family home to sell. Their belongings to go through."

He sighed loudly through his long nose. "You are no Slytherin. Your machinations are obvious, Minerva," he said with irritation. "I can see right through you."

Minerva's green eyes brightened and a bit of blood rose in her cheeks. "I don't," she sputtered, "I don't have the faintest idea what you're on about! I was simply telling you about that poor child, and how she is dealing with the loss of -"

"I never said I wouldn't do it," he replied in a haughty manner.

"Oh, would you, Severus?" she asked far too eagerly. "I'm just not up to it today. I haven't tried to navigate the Muggle world since the funeral. And frankly, that trip took the starch out of me. Would you go with her? Help her?"

"On one condition," he clarified. "I'll do it if you agree to foot the bill for our lunch and any other travel expense we may incur."

She pinched her lips together. "And I suppose you plan on dining in high style on my dime?"

"Oh, don't be so Scottish," he told her flippantly. A merry gleam, rivaling the Headmaster's, set his dark, brooding eyes to dancing. "You're all so alike with your penny-pinching ways."

"Severus Tobias Snape! How dare you!" she blustered angrily. "All right, then, have it your way. Hire a fancy automobile! Take the both of you to a fancy luncheon." She stood before him with her arms akimbo on her hips. "Have champagne for dinner and go on to dancing afterwards for all I care!" She was in high rare form. "You want me to foot the bill. Aye, that I will." She ended her diatribe with a stomping of her foot.

He smiled smugly. "Oh, I don't think champagne will be necessary. I'm sure the Aubergine has a most excellent wine collection."

"The Aubergine!" Minerva protested loudly.

His smile only increased. "Ah, but you've already given your word." He gracefully spread his arms to encompass Filius and Pomona. "And before witnesses, too."

Minerva backed up as if she'd been trapped and perched on the edge of the staff room table. She heaved a sigh as she looked from Flitwick to his wife. "All right, Severus," she said wearily. "You've won. Just go now before you're late. Hermione knows the addresses." As the Potions Master, with a spring in his step, headed towards the door, she shouted, "And be nice to the girl!"

"Well, I've never seen you beaten so soundly," Flitwick stated bluntly. "You're no match for a Slytherin, but you're usually far better at striking a deal than that."

Minerva didn't answer the diminutive man except with a grand smile.

Pomona matched her smile and crowed aloud with laughter. "Oh, Filius, Minerva didn't lose at all. She out-Slytherined the Sytherin! Congratulations!"

A frown on his forehead, the Head of Ravenclaw was utterly bewildered. He didn't like the feeling one bit. "I don't understand," he told them.

"That, dear," his wife told him, "is because you're a man."

 **October 1, 1995**

"It was a lovely wedding, wasn't it?" Umbridge simpered in the staff room. "Mr. Nott made a most handsome groom, and that girl -" she turned and pulled at Minerva's sleeve "- what was her name? Simpson? Wasn't she lovely in the ivory gown?"

"Her name is Stempson," McGonagall snapped, "Patricia Stempson."

"Yes," Dolores replied with a giggle, "I was so glad that I could help that poor man find true love and happiness again." She sniffed as the Transfiguration professor turned her back on their conversation to pour herself a large whiskey. Not put out, she merely turned to the Divination teacher and continued. "Did you know Mr. Nott lost his wife not long after his son was born? The poor old fellow was crazy with grief for years."

"The girl is in grave danger," Sybill intoned solemnly as she stared off into space.

"She'll be dead within the year," Severus muttered into his glass.

"At least we saved Miss Clearwater," Pomona whispered insistently.

"You call arranging a marriage between her and Damocles Belby 'saving' her?" Charity Burbage complained.

"Well, he's not exactly a perfect match for Penelope, but at least he won't harm her," Sprout murmured. She lowered her voice and nodded towards the couple in the corner. "Looks like I was right. It seems there's a match being made between Sirius Black and Septima Vector."

"That's wonderful," cried Burbage.

Sprout smiled happily. "It is, and what's better is that after the first of the year he'll be coming here to teach the History of Magic."

Severus swallowed a large gulp of fire whiskey the wrong way, and McGonagall beat him soundly about the back. "Come along, Severus," she said loudly as she pulled him out of the staff room and down the hall.

Coughing and hacking, the Potions Master could only stumble along. Once he caught his breath, he found himself sitting in Minerva's private office. "Did you know that mongrel Black was going to be teaching here?" he demanded.

Minerva pursed her lips, gauging his anger. "Yes," she stated blandly. "Here, Severus, have another drink." Deftly, she poured them both another fire whiskey and sat behind her desk. "You know we had to get rid of Binns." She shook her head. "It was high time."

He glared at her. "Oh, I am in complete agreement that Binns had to go. He should have been replaced years ago when he died." He took a long and hopefully mellowing drink of his whiskey. "Although I would never admit to it in public, I must agree that Black would be good with History of Magic," he conceded grudgingly. "Replacing Binns with Black is a good move both academically and politically, and his impending marriage to Vector gives a perfect excuse for bringing him here to Hogwarts."

Minerva set her glass down on her desk with a decisive thump. "Glad to hear you say that, Severus, because I want to speak with you about another good political move."

Snape quickly set his glass down next to hers and folded his arms across his chest. Deep suspicion blackened his face. "What do you want?" he growled.

"What if I told you I knew a way for you to raise yourself in Tom's estimation? A way that would help save the life of a member of the Order? A way in which you could get a free brewing assistant to boot?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What's the catch?

"Did I mention it's a sure way to drive both Albus and Potter round the twist?"

Severus Snape grinned enormously, a sight that would intimidate a lesser soul. "I'm listening."

"Marry Hermione Granger," Minerva said softly.

"What the fuck!" Snape bolted from his chair and loomed over her.

Minerva, calm as always, didn't even flinch. "Severus! Vulgarity is no substitute for wit!"

"The child is barely 16! Do you take me for a pedophile?" he roared.

She sniffed. "Not in the least. I know you practically hate the girl, which is why I chose you." With satisfaction, she noted the look of puzzlement on his face. "Sit down, Severus, and have another drink."

Not wanting her to see his utter confusion, he eased back into the chair, snagging up the decanter and refilling his glass to the top. "I'll give you two minutes to explain yourself, and for the record, I do not hate the girl."

Waving away his last statement, Minerva looked down at her desk. She had him right where she wanted him. The boy could never pass up a challenging puzzle. Setting up her best poker face, she looked him dead in the eye and told him bluntly, "Under this damnable new law, Hermione will need a Pureblood husband over the age of 30 by the time she turns 17 this coming September, and I firmly believe that you are her best choice."

"Although I am of the proper age, you are forgetting that I am not a Pureblood; therefore, I am ineligible to marry her, never mind the fact that she is still only 16."

"Under the law you would be ineligible, that's true," McGonagall agreed. "And, it's also true that the girl is not yet 17." She picked up her glass and took a tiny sip.

Severus swirled the whiskey around his glass, watching as the soft, brown liquid eddied and pooled across the ice. After a long moment of silence, he tossed back the remainder of the drink and, again, refilled his tumbler. "I confess that I am missing something, Minerva," he told her.

She smiled briefly, her green eyes twinkling to rival the headmaster's. "You'll marry her now, before the second section of the law goes into effect. There are no qualifications on the girl's bridegroom if she marries before the requirement."

He nodded his understanding. "How very Slytherin of you, Minerva." She dipped her head in recognition of his compliment. "Then why not marry the girl off to Weasley, that ginger menace she seems so fond of?"

"Severus, I mean no disrespect to the boy, but he is hardly the equal of Miss Granger," she replied with fervor, "besides he would no doubt wish to consummate the marriage."

"And you believe that I would not insist on my husbandly rights."

Ruthless green eyes met hard black ones and held for a long, long moment. "I believe you are a gentleman, Severus."

He heaved a sigh, knowing she was right. "Minerva, I have far too many responsibilities in this war already. I do not have the time nor temperament to deal with a blushing child-bride. Surely, there is someone else? Lupin? A Weasley cousin?"

She nodded admitting the truth. "Yes, there are others, but you know the rules of Hogwarts preclude any married students."

"Yes, that was one of the two reasons my mother left school before graduation," he stated coldly.

Minerva could see the faint blush on his cheeks. His mother's untimely pregnancy, subsequent quick wedding, and miserable marriage were the scandal of her first year as Head of House. "I remember your mother, Severus," she told him gently. His parents' marriage had not been a happy one, and both of them took every opportunity to blame the poor boy.

"I neither want nor need your pity, Minerva," he rumbled into his glass.

Wisely, she didn't reply to this. "If Hermione marries someone from outside Hogwarts, she'll be required to leave. We won't be able to protect her. If, however, she marries you, she'll be able to stay and continue her education."

"It wouldn't work. Albus would fire me in an instant, and we'd both have to leave."

"Albus wouldn't know a thing about it," she insisted. "No one would - at least not until next September when the girl turns 17. At any rate, the two of you will have been married for nearly a year by then, and both the Ministry and Albus will simply have to make the best of the situation. And who knows? Perhaps the damnable law will be repealed by then."

The Potions Master settled his empty glass firmly on the desk and folded his hands together, steepling his fingers. "So, what you're proposing to me on behalf of your ward is a marriage in name only. One that will keep the girl safe and allow her to finish her education? I promise to provide for her and protect her while she promises to help me with brewing, marking papers, and whatever I need to do in my dual roles. Is that it?"

The older woman nodded. She set her glass down as well. "Aye, that's my idea."

"It won't work," he told her. "The paperwork will never make it through the Ministry."

Minerva answered quickly. "Ah, but we will have a Muggle style wedding. You and the girl both have Muggle birth certificates," she pointed out. "A quick trip to a local highland Registrar with proper paperwork and payment is all it'll take."

"Minerva," he sighed, knowing that he was rapidly losing this fight, "the girl is still only 16. To have a Muggle ceremony, she'll have to be 18 or have parental consent."

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, the older witch played her trump card. "Not in Scotland," she informed him. "Anyone aged between 16 and 18 does not need parental consent to get married. That is how we will get around this bloody law."

"You certainly seem to have thought of everything," he muttered sourly. "But, Minerva, eventually the Ministry will learn of this pseudo-marriage, and it will either be annulled or enforced according to the law."

She held up her hand to emphasize this last point. "If it comes to a point where the two of you are forced to abide by the letter of the law, I can still think of no one more suitable for the girl than you." The old woman sighed. "And, Severus, ask yourself this: do you not deserve some tiny measure of happiness with a wife and family?"


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many, many thanks for my amazing beta, Selek!

Thank you all to my reviewers - especially Marriage1988. You've really boosted my spirits. And congratulations to Shelle007 for finding the Downton Abbey (which I do not own either) in the last chapter.

Please review.

CHAPTER 5

 **December 1995**

"Hermione, good morning," Minerva McGonagall said with a smile. "Would you please sit down?" The older witch was casually dressed in a soft wool business suit of black and low matching pumps.

"Good morning," the young witch replied as she seated herself in guardian's sitting room. "You said to dress in something nice for this meeting, but you didn't say why. Is this acceptable?"

McGonagall peered over the tops of her square eye glasses. Hermione was wearing a russet skirt and an oversized, matching sweater. Low boots encased her feet. "Yes," she nodded, "that's very appropriate, dear." Looking back down at a set of papers she had in her hand, McGonagall stacked them neatly and deposited them on a nearby table. "Hermione, what do you know of the Marriage Act?" she asked softly.

"All Muggle-born witches between 18 and 40 are required to marry a Pureblood wizard between the ages of 30 and 80," she recited verbatim in a monotone. Then she quickly blurted out, "Supposedly, this piece of legislation will save the Wizarding world, though it's obviously a prejudiced bit of crap designed to enslave Muggleborn witches." The young woman's face immediately darkened. "And I know I'm eligible for it next year when they drop the age to 17."

"Hmmm, yes," Minerva told her. "Do you have any idea of what you will do come next September?"

Hermione shook her head and bit her lip as tears threatened to fall, but with a Herculean effort she pushed them back. Squaring her small shoulders, she gained a fierce and determined demeanor. "No, Prof- No, Minerva," she quickly amended and rushed on. "I'm sorry. I know you've told me to call you by your first name when we're not around the other students, but it's hard to overcome four years of habit."

"You'll get used to it. It took Severus nearly two years of teaching as my colleague before he could manage it." She laughed. "He would blush and stutter whenever he tried to make the words come out."

"Last year I never would have thought that of him." Hermione laughed in return. "But having spent the summer here with the staff, I can believe it."

"Aye, Severus. He can be rather charming when he chooses, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione agreed, "in fact, he's rather witty and fun to be around when he wants to be. Oh, but don't tell him I said that!"

"Your secret is safe with me," Minerva whispered, her green eyes sparkling with delight. "Now, do you remember the conversation we had at Sirius' and Septima's wedding?"

Reaching into a beaded purse, she pulled out a small scroll. "Yes, I've made a list of preferences for any so-called suitor." Fire flashed in her eyes as she added, "Oh, I know I won't really have any say in the matter, but I won't let them marry me off to just anyone."

Minerva smiled with pride. The girl may not be her own flesh and blood, but they were cast of the same spirit. Just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Oh, that'll just be Severus."

Minerva stood and moved with alacrity to the door, opening it with a smile. "Thank you for joining us, Severus." Her smile widened as she took in the sight of him.

Severus had clearly taken her words to heart because he was nicely turned out this morning. The loose fitting black trousers, shiny black shoes, and crisp white button down shirt looked well on him. The soft gray jumper showed his breadth of shoulders to a nice advantage. And he had brushed his hair back from his face and dressed it in imitation of Lucius Malfoy. It gleamed a deep blue-black like a raven's wing.

"Good morning, Minerva," Professor Snape replied politely as he joined them. "Miss Granger." He acknowledged her presence with a nod before settling himself in the chair next to Hermione. "I apologize for my tardiness. What have I missed?"

"Nothing, Severus, we were just beginning," McGonagall told him. She noted with a bit of approval that Hermione seemed very intrigued by his appearance. Severus cut quite the dashing figure when he made the effort. "Hermione was just about to read me her 'wish list' of masculine qualities. Hermione?"

"Oh," Hermione cried, "I'm sorry; I was wool-gathering." A rosy blush spread over her face, and deepened when she realized that Snape was offering her his undivided attention. "All right, if I could choose the attributes of the perfect man -"

Snape heaved a gargantuan sigh of disgust and crossed his long legs.

"Severus," McGonagall chided gently as she peered at him over the rim of her glasses.

"Really, Minerva," he fired back, "do we have to sit here and listen to this girlish drivel?"

"Patience, young man," she retorted. "You may learn something important. Go ahead, Hermione."

Shifting slightly in her seat, the young witch crossed her ankles and tucked them under the chair. "My ideal man would be a good listener and have a sense of humor. He must be intelligent, honest, caring, helpful, open-minded, understanding, reliable -" she paused to sneak a quick look at Snape "- ambitious, respectful, trustworthy, romantic, and clean."

Minerva beamed with approval. "That, indeed, would be the very definition of the perfect man."

"Yes," Snape drawled, "unfortunately, such a fellow would already possess a boyfriend."

Quickly, McGonagall's beaming smile soured causing Snape to smile brilliantly in return. Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Yes," McGonagall conceded as a slip of a smile returned to her face. "All right, Hermione, knowing that this Ministry-made marriage won't be one of love, which of these qualities is imperative? Narrow it down to the five most important characteristics."

As the young woman learned forward to scrutinize her list, her braid fell over her shoulder, where it gleamed with red highlights in the early morning light. "Well, regardless of the situation, I simply must have a man of intelligence." She sat back and looked back and forth between her two professors. "Do you think I could combine the qualities of honesty and trustworthiness? After all, they do go together, don't they?"

"Not always, Miss Granger," Snape informed her. "Although both characteristics are closely related. Please continue."

Both women nodded their agreement, and Hermione continued. "He should be understanding of our situation, and having a sense of humor would be go a long way to ensure that. I absolutely must insist that he be respectful of me and reliable."

"Excellent choices, Hermione," Minerva told her. "Don't you agree, Severus?"

Snape's black eyes bored into Hermione's brown ones. "I think perhaps you have omitted something very important." He paused, gauging her reaction before continuing. "Protection," he stated succinctly.

Suddenly, Hermione realized that there was more at stake than her future marital happiness. Her very life was being threatened. The blood drained from her face.

"I think we all would have to agree that our primary object would be to keep Hermione safe," Minerva quietly said. Her eyes narrowed as she watched her ward, hoping the girl wouldn't faint. "Hermione?"

Inhaling deeply, Hermione forced herself to sit upright in the chair. "I'm all right," she replied slowly. "Just digesting some unpleasant facts. I mean, I knew this law was bad, but I didn't dream that," she wet her lips and glanced at Professor Snape before looking again at her guardian, "that my life would be in danger, but it would be, right?" She frowned, thinking aloud to herself. "But, that's what a war is."

McGonagall exchanged worried looks with Snape.

"Miss Granger?" he asked softly as he faced the girl and leaned towards her. If she were likely to fall apart, he would need to act quickly to stop her.

She shook her head and blinked rapidly. Then she smiled, but it was a hard smile of grim determination. "Yes, Professor Snape," she told him clearly, "I just needed a quick moment to reassess my situation." She crumpled the scroll in her fist. "I think I need a wizard who is powerful enough to protect me, intelligent, and dedicated to defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be Named."

 **January 1996**

"I can't believe we're keeping this a secret," Hermione whispered anxiously. She glanced around nervously up and down the corridor of the tiny Scottish administrative building.

"It's not like this is to be a real marriage," Severus told her. "Consider it a private business arrangement. There is simply no reason anyone other than ourselves and a few co-conspirators need know."

"But still, shouldn't the Headmaster -"

"The Headmaster," Minerva answered with a fierce grin, "thinks you're marrying my brother, Robbie."

"I thought your brother was a confirmed bachelor," Severus said with surprise.

"And, so he is," Minerva continued. "Albus thought that such a marriage would be an excellent way to doubly protect Hermione."

"Snape?" A round face and bald head popped out from a door halfway down the hall.

Severus stood and offered a hand to McGonagall. She frowned and batted his arm away. Standing quickly, her spine held ramrod straight, she took Hermione by the arm and frog-marched the bewildered young woman past Severus and into the room. The older witch, lips pinched in anger, thrust Hermione into the first chair inside the office. She took the only other seat for herself.

When Severus, slumping shoulders, entered the room and closed the door behind him, he was wearing thick eyeglasses. His hair was parted on the left and slicked down against his skull. The Great Bat of the Dungeons looked more like a gussied up owl. He peered myopically around the small office, and seeing that Hermione and Minerva were seated at both guest chairs, he perched a hip against a filing cabinet.

"Oh," the rotund clerk said cheerily, "so there's the lucky groom." He pulled open a manila folder and shuffled a few papers. "Right, then, I need to see both birth certificates if you please."

Hermione's mouth dropped open at the sight of Professor Snape. He was wearing his usual black trousers and white shirt, but to that he'd added - from seemingly nowhere - a grey tweed jacket complete with leather elbow patches. _Sweet Merlin!_ she thought, _He looks like that Lewis fellow in_ _The Nutty Professor_ _!_ Minerva snapped her fingers, jerking her out of her stunned reverie.

The clerk, a Mr. Colquhon according to his name plate, peered back and forth between the papers, hemming and hawing the while. His fat index fingers clicked one key at the time as he entered in the necessary information. "I see there's a considerable age difference between the two," he said softly.

"Aye, but that's no' your concern now, is it?" Minerva challenged. Her Scottish brogue was thick. "The girl's of age, so just get along with the papers now, and no more chin wagging."

Set back in his place by her waspish tongue, Mr. Colquhon frowned, nodded, and went back to the task at hand. "Aye, aye, as ye say ma'am."

Hermione shot an incredulous look at her professor, but she kept her mouth shut. Quickly she dropped her gaze to her hands carefully folded in her lap.

"There, now," Colquhon said, extracting the finalized forms from the printer. He stacked them on the desk and placed them into the folder. "Here are your birth certificates back," he told Severus. It was clear he had more than a little apprehension about dealing with Minerva. "You can come back in two weeks for the actual ceremony."

Snape took the offered papers, his hands shaking. "W-w-well, well, you see, now," Snape stuttered, "we really need to, to, to get married -"

"We will no' be returnin'!" Minerva shouted. She bolted up from her seat. "You will perform the ceremony here and now." She thumped his desk with a big, black, alligator purse.

Instantly, Severus bowed his head in submission, and Colquhon's eyes bounced back and forth between the two in amazement. "Standard procedures and regulations stipulate," he said in a clear voice (He felt relatively safe quoting official rules.), "that all proposed marriages have a two week waiting time."

Minerva's face took on the aspect of a stormy sea. "I don' much care what your regulations state, laddie." Her voice, so thick with brogue as to be nearly non-understandable, was low and dangerous. "You'll marry the two of them here and now. I don' much care how you arrange it, but marry them you will!" She tilted her head and squinted sideways at him. "My own father, a minister, he was, and I'll have no McGregor child born a bastard!" Again she thumped her purse on the desk, rattling the man's keyboard.

"Oh, oh!" cried the poor fellow. His eyes bugging out of his head as they darted frantically back and forth, taking in all of the players in the scene. The poor, whipped sod with his head bowed was trying to catch the eye of the pretty young miss. And she, curly head bowed down with guilt, was sitting there with her hands held tightly in her lap. All the while this crazed banshee of a highlander was screeching like to raise the dead! And she a McGregor to boot!

He heaved a great inhalation. "Yes, I, uh, I can understand, and, yes, there are 'allowances' made for such cases." He reached blindly behind him (He didn't dare turn his back on _her_ ) and pulled another form forward. "I'll just post-date the original form, you see? There, now." With shaking hands, he presented the revised paper for her inspection. "If you two will please step forward?"

Severus stepped forward, tenderly helped Hermione from her chair, and led her the two short steps to the desk. Wisely, Hermione stared at his arm and said nothing.

"Be quick about it, man," Minerva complained. "We've a schedule to keep. Use the shortest vows you have." She snapped her fingers at the man.


	6. Chapter 6

This chapter contains the scene in Dumbledore's office after the Headmaster has tried on the Horcrux ring. Snape has contained the curse and saved Dumbledore's life. I have taken actual quotes from "Chapter 33: The Prince's Tale" in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Rowling's words are indicated in italics.

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many, many thanks for my amazing beta, Selek!

Please review.

Chapter 6

 **July 1996**

The pounding of the pouring rain and crackling warmth of the fire filled Hermione with a deep drowsiness as she lolled about on the dusty, old sofa. Clutching the tattered book in her hands, she stretched and set the book on the floor. She really should get up and complete some of the work on the house at Spinner's End; instead she lay there savoring the day. She was spending the summer break at Spinner's End, helping her 'husband' of almost seven months restore the old home.

She grinned wildly at the thought of her 'husband' as a sudden, vivid image of her winter 'wedding' caused Hermione to laugh aloud. Neither Minerva nor Professor Snape had told her beforehand what they planned do to, which left her completely gobsmacked. They were afraid her acting abilities would not be on par with their own, which would give away the game, and after what she'd witnessed, she knew they were right. Both deserved BAFTA's for their performances that morning.

Minerva played the part of the overbearing granny so well, she had completely horrified the clerk, Mr. Colquhon. She took control of the entire procedure and forced the man to falsify documents and marry them on the spot.

Professor Snape was equally astounding. He presented the perfect image of the socially awkward scholar, who had been seduced by his young student. His entire demeanor had changed, and Minerva had unmercifully browbeaten him as well as the clerk.

Afterwards, they had lunched together at a local pub and laughed together until all three of them had tears streaming down their faces. Hermione had tried to thank him for agreeing to marry her and save her from the new law, but he refused to hear it. In fact, he pointed out that he planned to take shameless advantage of her in the coming summer by using her to help renovate his home at Spinner's End.

He'd then explained to her and Minerva what he had in mind. When Professor Snape had helped Hermione arrange the sale of her parent's house and dental practice, the realtor had mentioned that real estate in old mill towns such as Spinner's End was selling like hot cakes. Since he owned a home in just such a town, Severus had decided to sell, and the realtor, thrilled at such a money making prospect, had suggested that with a few improvements he could expect higher profits. Snape had immediately engaged the agent and had set aside the summer to do the needed work.

Hermione smiled as she remembered Severus' kindness to her. No, he wasn't going to turn into Prince Charming any time soon, but the man wasn't nearly as grouchy outside of school. In fact, he was rather amusing and agreeable when not utterly stressed out, and she was looking forward to tackling the kitchen with him later this afternoon when he returned from Hogwarts. The Headmaster had just called him away, which was why she was lounging away with a book.

A sudden knocking at the door jerked her from her thoughts, and she hurried to answer the door. A tall, beautiful woman with black and platinum blonde hair stood stock still as she opened the door. Hermione's shock was quickly followed by irritation when she recognized her. "Mrs. Malfoy, may I help you?" Hermione asked

The woman looked confused as the rain ran off her designer coat. "I'm sorry. Perhaps I'm at the wrong address. I wish to see Professor Snape," she said in a distinctly upper class accent.

"You have the correct address," Hermione said. She stepped back allowing the lovely woman to enter.

Mrs. Malfoy raised a finely arched brow as she stepped into the vestibule. "I was unaware that Severus kept a -" she paused as if searching for a polite term "- a companion."

Blood rushing to her cheeks, Hermione frowned. "I'm here to help him renovate the house. He's planning on selling it," she said sharply. "Professor Snape isn't here right now, but you're welcome to wait for him. May I take your coat?" she asked as politely as she could.

"My apologies, of course," Narcissa said in a tone that indicated she didn't believe Hermione in the least. She removed the nearly soaked garment, and absently handed it to the younger witch, who hung it by the door. Quickly Hermione vanished the puddle of water, and she took the initiative to dry the older woman's coat. Then she led her guest back into the library and offered her a chair near the fire.

A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between the two women. Hermione had never been a girly-girl, but she had spent enough time around Lavender and Parvati to recognize high fashion when she saw it. Draco's mum was dressed like a runway model, but with an aristocratic bearing that pronounced her a queen. Narcissa Malfoy, so polished and well-bred, was simply perfect.

Hermione frowned. Here she sat across from the Wizarding world's equivalent of Royalty looking like some drudge from the back end of a Dickens' work. Her hair, unlike Narcissa's regal coiffure, was dirty, dusty, and frizzed beyond all recognition as something that belonged on a human head. And while Lady Malfoy was dressed in expensive, designer clothing, she wore a pair of raggedy jeans, old trainers, and a T-shirt from Flamingo Land.

Narcissa didn't know exactly what the connection was between the girl and Severus, but as she watched the girl settle herself into the opposite chair, she knew one thing instinctively. The child was not happy about her arrival. Raising her chin to better study the girl, Mrs. Malfoy smiled knowingly, transforming her features from merely beautiful to simply stunning. Ah, the girl was jealous. Perhaps there was something here she could use in her upcoming discussion with Severus. Settling herself more comfortably in the chair, she folded her white hands gracefully in her lap, noticing that Hermione tucked her own rough and reddened hands beneath her thighs.

Finally breaking the silence, Mrs. Malfoy asked bluntly, "When do you expect Severus back?" Her hands, still lovely, shook ever so slightly until she clasped them together tightly in her lap.

At first Hermione was annoyed at Mrs. Malfoy's nerve at suggesting that Severus would get involved with a student, but as they continued to sit wordlessly together, that changed. Hermione could see the tiny but tell-tale signs of fear, the deeply etched worry lines on the woman's face, and her irritation slowly drained. She put on a polite smile. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure when Professor Snape will return. He's gone to Hogwarts," she replied softly. "If you'd like, I could call for him." She paused and added, "Perhaps we could have tea while we wait?"

"Please," Narcissa assented.

"Grazey," Hermione called out, "I hate trouble you, but do you think you could bring some tea and biscuits?"

The elf, a huge smile on her face, popped into the room with a bounce. "Grazey loves to help. Grazey be very much busy today, but Grazey like busy-ness. Missy 'Mione should be knowing that. Besides, Missy has no business in kitchen." She shook her head.

"Thank you, Grazey."

As Grazey bounded towards the kitchen, the two women heard muttered comments to the effect that Hermione would probably accidentally poison them if she tried so much as to boil water.

Hermione felt the heat rise in her checks, and she smiled apologetically at Narcissa. "I'm not much of a cook," she told the other woman.

Narcissa smiled graciously. "Neither am I."

Within seconds of Grazey returning with the tea, Hermione said, "Grazey, I hate to bother you again -" She broke off as she noted the look of pity in the elf's eyes.

"Poor Missy," Grazey remarked. She shook her head sadly, and her ears hung low. "Is Grazey's joy to help! Oh, just let me. Let Grazey help."

"Um, could you find Professor McGonagall? Please ask her to see if Professor Snape can return home. Mrs. Malfoy is awaiting him."

The grey-eyed elf nodded her head in jubilation. "Grazey will find." With a snap of her long fingers, the elf was gone.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

 _Dumbledore seemed satisfied._

 _"Thank you, Severus . . . "_

Severus left the Headmaster's office in a fine, high temper. "Damn him," he muttered fiercely as he stormed through the corridor past the staffroom. "Damn him, damn him, damn him," he shouted at the walls. The words reverberated against the cold, stone walls and echoed in time to the pounding of his boots on the floor.

"Goodness gracious!" cried Poppy Pomfrey as she and Minerva McGonagall burst from the staffroom. The school's matron reached out and snagged the Potions Master by the arm, abruptly halting him. "Severus Snape," she asked as she stepped in front of him, "what in the world is wrong?"

Had it been anyone else, Snape would have simply snatched free, but Poppy held a special place with him. When he had first encountered the school's Matron, he was a neglected, friendless, and underfed boy. Her heart had gone out to him, and she'd been instrumental in stopping the worst of the beatings he received from his dear old father.

Although neither of them ever breathed a word of it, they both knew that she had unofficially adopted him. During the school year, she had tended to his wounds at least those that he couldn't take care of on his own. Her constant encouragement and motherly love had lasted well into his days as Dumbledore's spy, and she had spent many long hours putting him back together after he'd been on the receiving end of the Dark Lord's displeasure. She was one of the few people Severus Snape truly cared for.

He ground his back teeth as he counted to ten. Then, closing his eyes, he exhaled long and loudly, trying to let go of his anger. "The Headmaster," through gritted teeth, he told the woman acidly, "is a complete and utter jackass."

Minerva McGonagall snorted with amusement. "I could have told you that."

Snape's glare did nothing to quell the Transfiguration professor's humor. Over the years, Minerva had become more than a professional colleague to him. She was a friend. "Go ask the Headmaster what he's just done," he told her in a low, grating voice.

Poppy's eyes narrowed. She alone of all the people in the world could see the bright, unshed tears in the boy's sloe black eyes. Albus had apparently crossed the line. "I think I shall, my boy," she told him coolly. She released his arm and marched away with a determined step.

Minerva knew that something had passed between her two colleagues, and it made her intensely curious, but she had other concerns. Reminding herself to check on that great idiot Albus later, she took hold of Severus' sleeve and gently escorted him back to his dungeon lab. In a low voice, she whispered, "Severus, we need to talk about your wife."

 **HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH**

"How do you take your tea?" Hermione asked as she began to pour.

For a time, the two women sipped their tea in silence. Despite herself, Hermione asked, "Forgive me, Mrs. Malfoy, but I can tell you're troubled. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Narcissa shook her head, set down her empty teacup down with a clink. "No, thank you," she whispered in clipped tones. She smiled coolly.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said softly, pushing the issue, "I'm not so ignorant of what's going on. I know that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named must be punishing you somehow for Mr. Malfoy's failure to get the Prophecy."

Shock and fear coursed through the woman. She sat up stiffly and gripped the armrests of the chair. "How?" she gasped. "How could you know this?

Hermione smiled grimly. "I was at the Ministry that night." Then she blurted out, "Seriously, how can you follow that monster?"

"I do not follow him," she responded in a curt manner, "Lucius and Bella chose to follow -"

"And look where it got them!" argued Hermione. "Your husband is in jail, and your sister is dead. I saw that, that _thing_ step over your sister's body like she was nothing!"

"If they followed the wrong leader, then they got what they deserved," Narcissa replied hotly. "Don't get me wrong," she said, holding up her hand to forestall the torrent of the younger woman's words, "I love both my husband and sister, but it was their choice, their beliefs, their fight - not mine."

"And where do you stand?" Hermione demanded. "Which side will you fight for?"

Narcissa eyed the young woman carefully and decided to tell the truth. She pitched her voice low. "I would prefer that your side prevail in the coming fight, but my concern, my _only_ concern is for the safety of my son."

Hermione sat back, fuming. "There is a Muggle saying that 'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.' "

Narcissa wilted. "Yes," she answered softly, "perhaps you are right. I cannot help either Lucius or Bella, but I will -" her eyes hardened to steel, and her voice deepened with determination, "- I will save my son."


	7. Chapter 7

This chapter contains the scene from Dumbledore's office after the Headmaster has tried on the Horcrux ring. Snape has contained the curse and saved Dumbledore's life. I have taken actual quotes from "Chapter 33: The Prince's Tale" in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Rowling's words are indicated in italics.

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many, many thanks for my amazing beta, Selek!

Please review.

 **CHAPTER7**

"You, bloody fool!" Pomfrey angrily complained as she examined the Headmaster.

"Severus had no right to involve you in this!" he argued loudly.

"Severus had no -" she shrieked. "Oh, you are every bit a jackass! No, sit still and let me check your magical levels." She pushed him back roughly.

Albus slumped against the back of his chair; he hadn't the strength to oppose her. "Called me a jackass, did he?" he asked more quietly.

Pomfrey shook her wand at him warningly. "The curse has been contained in your hand, but it won't stay there. It will spread, and you will lose your magic as well as your mental faculties."

"Perhaps I am a jackass," he muttered absently.

She continued casting medical spell after medical spell at him, her voice softening with each result. "Your magic is slowly being infected by this curse. Albus, you won't last six months like this."

"Severus gave me a year," he complained almost petulantly.

"So Severus is a Healer now?" she huffed her reply. "Albus," her tone softened again. She conjured up a stool to sit beside him. "When the end comes -" she hesitated a moment "- it won't be easy."

He smiled, as if brushing away her fears. "Oh, I know," he told her. "I've made arrangements. Don't you worry yourself."

"Already written your epitaph, have you?" she asked testily. His cavalier attitude concerning his own death only pissed her off again.

He laughed at that and roused up in his chair. "You know, Severus told me nearly the same thing when I asked him to -"

"To what?" Poppy demanded. But when the old man sealed his lips tightly and refused to answer, she knew. All blood drained from her face at the sheer horror of his request. Then, again her anger grew larger than before. "You asked him to ease your end, didn't you?" she sputtered. "Merlin bless him, you asked that poor boy to kill you!"

"And what's so wrong with wanting a friend to ease your passing? Hmm?" he growled testily. "Many people believe that it would be a favor _to help an old man avoid a great deal of pain a humiliation rather than submit to_ that _kind of death . . ." (p. 683)._ He raised his blasted right hand and shook it at her.

"Severus is right. You are a jackass," she informed him angrily. "I cannot believe that you asked that boy -" she shuddered as she inhaled; the tears weren't far off "- that boy who loves you more than his own father -" She paused again as the words failed her.

"You're worse than Minerva," Dumbledore frowned and muttered into his beard. Then he lifted his head as if in a state of near panic as a sudden thought struck him. "And I want your word, Poppy, your word of honor, that you won't tell her. Not one single, solitary word to Minerva."

"And if I refuse?" she snapped back. "You won't have to worry about poor Severus when Minerva finds out. She'll kill you herself!"

"Dammit, Poppy, I don't want Minerva to worry. She's -" Blood suffused his face as he stumbled over the words. "She's, well, she's special to me. I wouldn't want her to worry." He ended lamely.

"But it would be quite acceptable for her to watch you grow weaker and weaker both in mind and body every day? In your warped mind, it would be just fine and dandy for her to watch as Severus has the grand honor of killing you?" she asked tartly.

"No, I'll not have her see it," he argued, "and it'll be done in a way to help win this war."

Poppy sat still for a long moment, her mind spinning possibilities. Suddenly Albus' entire plan coalesced in front of her. "You're planning to make your death appear as if Severus murdered you," she whispered, her voice horror stricken. "In easing your passing, he'll be promoted within the ranks of Death Eaters, but he'll be an outcast from everyone he knows and loves!" She pressed a hand against her mouth. "Sweet Circe! What a plan!"

"Sosty," Albus called loudly for Minerva's elf, "please bring some tea and sandwiches." Then he turned to the appalled witch in front of him. "Now, Poppy," he said soothingly, "when Tom takes control of the school - and, make no mistake, he will do it - I hope that Severus will be promoted to Headmaster as a 'reward' for apparently 'murdering' me. It's the only way to keep the students safe."

He smiled kindly at the steely eyed elf as she deposited a platter with sandwiches and tea on a nearby table. "Thank you, Sosty." He glared at the house elf over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "And not a word of anything to you-know-who."

The old elf clamped her lips together tightly and harrumphed her disapproval before vanishing.

Poppy poured them both some tea with shaking hands. "All right, Albus," she admitted with a huff of anger, "I concede that your plan might work, but have you thought of what this would do to Severus?"

"I know I expect much from him -"

"Much too much," Poppy interrupted. She sighed and sipped her tea. There was a long silence in the Headmaster's office as the two of them ate. Suddenly, Poppy set her empty teacup down with a decisive clink. "Albus," she asked, a twinkle returning to her eye, "what if I said I knew a way to save your life? A way that would keep your planned deception?"

He frowned and set his teacup beside hers. "If that's possible, I'm certainly willing to hear."

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"What. Do. You. Want?" Severus hissed at his colleague as she practically frog-marched him into the dungeons.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me, young man," McGonagall snapped. "Your wife just sent Grazey -"

"Grazey?" he snapped. "Who the hell is Grazey?"

"Grazey," she replied with haughty frostiness, "is your house elf. Now, Grazey said -"

"I don't have a house elf," he returned angrily.

"You do now," she argued. "Grazey adopted herself to Hermione when you married."

The large veins in the Potions Master's neck stood out, and blood seeped upward. "How the hell does a house elf 'adopt herself' to a person?" he growled.

"I'm sure I don't know," Minerva retorted. "Perhaps you can ask Narcissa Malfoy. She's waiting for you at Spinners End."

Severus rolled his eyes to heaven, blew out a thin stream of air, and counted to ten - again; his fists were clenched at his side to keep from pulling his hair. When he had established some semblance of control over his temper, he spoke. "I apologize, Minerva," he said calmly. "What does she want?"

"You're forgiven," she told him gently. "I have no earthly idea, but Hermione did seem distressed about it." She called out, "Grazey?" A pop announced the elf's arrival. "Grazey can apparate from here. You might want to go now."

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"Albus, if we remove your hand, now, while the curse is contained in it," she told him, "we could remove the curse completely."

He frowned, thinking, and nodded. "It could work, yes," he agreed, "but how will that further my plan?"

Poppy had reached her limit of tolerance with the old man and punched him soundly in the arm. "Arrgh!" she cried in frustration, "do you wish to die?"

Dumbledore flinched and moved to resettle himself out of her reach. "Not at all," he told her as he rubbed his arm. "But we do need every advantage against Tom, and if he promotes Severus to his Inner Circle because he believes I was murdered -"

"He will," Poppy insisted. "Listen, we'll remove your cursed hand and destroy it. That saves your life. You can wear a transfigured hand and pretend to be ailing -"

"You want me to fake an illness?" he asked incredulously.

Poppy told him, "We'll supply you with the Weasley twins' Skiving Snackboxes." She shook her head with frustration as she noted that he was warming considerably to her idea at the mention of sweets. "At any rate," she continued, "just before the proper time for your 'murder,' you'll transfigure a chair into a great manikin of yourself. Severus will 'kill' the manikin, and as the school's Mediwitch, I'll proclaim the dummy Albus dead."

Albus grinned like a child in a candy store. "Tom will think Severus has truly killed me; he'll promote the boy to Headmaster, and the school will be as safe as possible." He gripped her hands with excitement. "It will give us a tactical advantage, and I can be near to help Harry when the final battle comes."

"Perhaps you can use Polyjuice to assume the form of a Death Eater," she continued. "Maybe you could get hired at the school. If Severus is promoted to Headmaster, the school will need a good Potions Master."

"Poppy," he chortled, "you're a genius." In his excitement, he leaned forward and kissed her soundly.

At that moment, the door opened, and Minerva stepped into the room. "Oh, my," she gasped. "Excuse me." With that she softly closed the door and left.

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Hermione accepted Mrs. Malfoy's honest answer. "Draco isn't my favorite person," she began slowly. "He's never been nice to me. In fact, he's often gone out of his way to be mean, calling me a Mudblood." She tried to gauge the other woman's reaction to the slur.

Narcissa tightened her lips. "Such vulgar terms are impolite. I tried to teach him better," she said simply. She looked down her nose, directly in Hermione's eyes.

"Which is not to say that you have no prejudices against my kind."

"My dear," she responded haughtily, "I've only known one other Muggleborn like yourself." She sniffed slightly. "I did not like her."

"Good afternoon, Narcissa," Severus said courteously. He closed the door behind him and bending, gently kissed her upraised hand. "Grazey," he told the elf, who tagged along behind him, "please wait with the girl in the kitchen." Straightening himself, he barely glanced at Hermione as he bluntly told her, "You may excuse yourself."

Hermione frowned and reluctantly did as she was told. No sooner had she vacated the chair than Severus had seated himself. "And, girl," he told her as she slowly moved towards the door, "be sure to close the door behind you."

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"Minerva," Dumbledore growled weakly as he stood from his chair, "it's not what it appears." But a wave of dizziness overcame him, and he gripped the chair back.

Poppy Pomfrey sighed. "Sit back down," she ordered him. "We need to take care of that hand first." She stood then, thinking aloud. "You'll need to be sedated for the surgery. It's best you're in your own bed. Dobby?"

"Dobby's here. Dobby's ready to work, but no one calls Dobby anymore," the elf announced as he suddenly appeared. "What can Dobby do?"

"Please prepare the Headmaster for bed, Dobby," she told the elf. "Then you may help me with a quick procedure."

"Headmaster, sir, will please allow Dobby to help?"

Reluctantly, the old man nodded and allowed Dobby to settle him into bed. While Dobby was caring for Dumbledore, Poppy dashed back to the hospital wing and quickly gathered the necessary medical supplies, including a prosthetic hand.

"Dobby," she told the elf, as she let herself into Dumbledore's bedchamber, "I'm going to remove the Headmaster's ruined right hand. I'll need you to dispose of it." She presented a cup to Dumbledore. "Drink this, Albus," she told him. "It will sedate you, so you'll feel no pain. You'll simply take a long nap and wake up refreshed with a new hand." She held out an artificial limb for his inspection.

Dobby's eyes hardened as he took in the situation. "Dobby has a bad feeling about that hand."

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "Yes, you are absolutely correct, Dobby." He took the cup from Poppy and downed its contents. He handed the empty cup to Dobby and took hold of the new limb.

"Dobby will destroy it," the elf asserted. "Dobby will do anything to help."

"Good," Poppy said, patting the elf on the shoulder encouragingly. "Both of us will need your help before this whole ordeal is done."

"I should have spoken to her years and years ago," Albus muttered to himself as the anesthetic took hold. "Back after Elphinstone died. Back just after McGregor." He mumbled something more, but it evolved into a grunting snore.

Cocking her head and inhaling deeply, Poppy began her work.

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Hermione seemed to have forgotten all about Grazey as she huffed into the kitchen. She slammed the door behind her and fought the urge to stamp her foot. Professor Snape had just brushed her off like some annoying student. How dare he! She wasn't some silly little girl; she was his wife for Merlin's sake. Well, not really, she conceded. But surely she deserved more respect than that!

Grazey watched as the young witch clattered around the kitchen and began a fit of Muggle-style cleaning. Missy 'Mione was being quite sure to slam as many cabinets and bang as many dishes as she could. Wisely, the little elf chose to stand far out of the way.

Having mercilessly scrubbed everything in sight, she stopped and sighed. Now that her pique of anger was spent, she knew she was behaving childishly, which didn't negate the fact - not for one minute! - that her husband had been very disrespectful. And she fully intended to make him well aware of that fact once that Malfoy woman left.

She ruthlessly slashed her wand, prepping the walls for a much needed new coat of paint. When he had allowed her to choose the colors, she'd naively thought that meant he'd - what? Liked her? Thought well of her? Appreciated her?

Huffing, she wasn't sure now if she were angrier with him or with herself. And what could that stuck-up cow want with her husband? Like a physical blow, that thought struck her hard, and she flopped down at the kitchen table.


	8. Chapter 8

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Part of this chapter was inspired by Sting's "Fields of Gold." Many, many thanks for my amazing beta, Selek! This chapter is sure to please all you Minerva fans. The chapter (and story) are primarily SS/HG, but MM just kept highjacking my keyboard.

Please review.

Chapter 8

Minerva, shoulders back and head held erect, marched briskly back to her quarters. With a surge of anger, she slammed the door behind her and leaned against it. Albus Dumbledore and Poppy Pomfrey! Who would ever have imagined!

She had always thought that she was special to him. Didn't he choose her above other, longer tenured teachers to be the Deputy Headmistress? Didn't he say she was his best friend? Didn't she hide him from that pink menace, Umbridge? Wasn't she the one he came to with his problems? Wasn't he supposed to - oh, who was she kidding?

She sighed, marched to her liquor cabinet, and poured herself two fingers of her most expensive libation, Royal Lochnagar's Liquid Lava. Royal Lochnagar was a Muggle whiskey, but they also produced a Magical blend charmingly named Liquid Lava. What she witnessed tonight called for nothing less!

She tossed it back and refilled the glass; then carrying the bottle, she plopped into her favorite tartan covered chair. With a careless flick of her wand, she pulled up a matching ottoman and propped up her feet. She kicked off her sensible shoes and wiggled her toes. Leaning her head back against the seat, she closed her eyes, hoping to stop the inevitable tears. Merlin, how many tears had she shed over that man?

Having downed the second glass, she poured herself another drink and set the bottle to hover beside her chair. This time she sipped the whiskey, savoring the flavor. She'd learned long ago - just after her break-up with Dougal - that holding onto anger only impaired the spirit, so slowly she let go her anger. _Doomed to be unlucky in love, aye, that would be me_ , she thought morosely. She swirled the whiskey around the tumbler and watched it coat the sides of the glass.

Dougal McGregor. A bitter-sweet smile lifted her lips as she remembered that wonderful summer of 1954. She was a mere lass of 19, and Dougal was 25. It seemed as if together they had spent an eternity of perfection that summer as they explored his father's fields of barley. The heat of the yellow sun had burned nearly as fiercely as their love as they lay together, his McGregor hunting tartan spread out on the fertile earth. The west wind, making a sea of the grains, had cooled them and stirred her hair as he'd twisted her long, long black hair around his large, calloused hands. Oh, that lovely, lovely summer! That summer when he asked her to marry him.

Minerva finished her drink with a frown. She'd turned down his proposal even though she'd loved him fiercely. The Statute of Secrecy and her position at the Ministry would never have allowed her to marry a Muggle. Oh, but she'd loved him more than any other man. More than her deceased husband, Elphin, though he'd been a wonderful man, and she _had_ loved him, but not with that youthful intenseness. No other love had captured and held her as completely as her first burning love for Dougal McGregor. No other man, no, not until she'd returned to Hogwarts to teach. Not until she'd gotten to know Albus Dumbledore.

Albus. She'd slowly come to love the wizard. Oh, it wasn't the all-consuming emotion of a first love. It was a quiet, long-burning ember of devotion. Suddenly, she snorted and sat up, settling her stockinged feet on the floor.

"Drinking alone, Min?" a man's voice called out with a small trace of humor.

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It was a grim faced Severus who shut the door behind his unwelcomed visitor a half hour later. He rubbed his eyes wearily, mentally cursing the day. First, the Headmaster had asked, no, ordered Severus to kill him. And now Narcissa had begged the same of him if her darling little boy proved ineffectual, which, of course, the little bastard would.

His head was pounding beyond belief. "Hermione," he called out as he entered the kitchen, "find me some headache potion, will you?"

Hermione eyed him steadily. "Oh?" she asked with syrupy sweetness, "has your _friend_ gone?"

Whether it was because he was tired and stressed or because he was a simple male, he failed to note the emphasis she had placed on that one word. "Yes, Narcissa, has gone," he replied wearily. He sat at the table opposite her. "I have a headache."

"Serves you right," she mumbled under her breath.

This time he caught her tone if not the actual words, and his eyes snapped to hers. "What did you say to me?" Each word was enunciated with precision and laced with the first stirrings of anger.

Courting danger, Hermione glared right back at him. "Oh, nothing," she replied, slowly, casually. "I was just wondering what the grand Lady Malfoy wanted."

Severus frowned. He brushed aside her statement with a wave of his hand. "That's not your concern."

She should not have said it, but the words tumbled out of her mouth. "Oh, really? Maybe it's her husband's concern, then. Seems odd that as soon as he's in jail, she comes running straight to his good friend's arms."

Infuriated, the Potions master rose to his full height, towering over the un-cowed girl. "How dare you insinuate -" He sputtered in righteous anger. "Nothing occurred between Narcissa and me. Now or ever!"

Hermione bolted to her feet as well. Making up in shrillness and volume what she lacked in height, she retorted, "So why did you find it necessary to send me from the room?"

"Grazey," he roared. "Get. Me. Some. Headache. Potion. Now!"

Snapping her fingers, Grazey summoned the requested vial and handed it to the livid wizard. The elf quirked her head to the left, her ears going up to great points, and she apparated away.

"Now, see what you've done!" screeched Hermione. "You've hurt her feelings!"

"She is a house elf, you stupid little girl!"

"I am not stupid, you great git!" she returned with force and an added stamping of her foot. Then, suddenly against her will, the tears came on. "And I'm not a child; I'm your wife."

"A child bride of 16!" he shouted. Then he noticed the tears. He had never been softened by tears - except those of his mother and Lily. Now, though, watching this silly little girl - his wife - crying in the same kitchen where his mother used to cry, something akin to remorse blossomed in his chest. Gritting his teeth, he lowered his voice and relaxed his tone. "Yes, you are my wife," he said with a sigh. "Now, sit down and let us see if we can resolve this issue."

Realizing that he was making an effort to control, Hermione seated herself, trying to reel in her own emotions. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," she conceded.

"Humph," he grunted as he again sat opposite. Forcing an outward appearance of calm, he laid his hands flat on the tabletop. "Now, would you kindly explain to me what your problem is?"

Hermione brushed away the tears with the back of her hand. Although they had established a sort of shaky truce, she did not intend to let the matter go. "I feel that you grossly disrespected me," she told him quietly, "when you dismissed me like I was some snotty-nosed little first year."

He nodded. "I see," he intoned gravely. "Did it occur to you, gir -" He caught himself. "Did it occur to you, Hermione, that by sending you from the room I was simply protecting you?"

"Protecting me?" she echoed with a frown. "I am quite capable of taking care of myself," she replied quickly.

Snape snorted in amusement. "And, I suppose you're referring to your little adventure at the ministry this past June?" He laughed smugly at her look of shock. "Oh, I'm well aware of the part you played," he told her pointedly. "And, while I'm willing to allow a bit of pride at your Slytherin maneuvering of that puffed-up, pink toad, I can assure you that you alone could never survive a fight against a Death Eater."

"I'm not afraid of that bubble-headed, bleach blonde Narcissa Malfoy!" she counted angrily.

"While I am not privy to the machinations of Narcissa and her hairdresser, I can assure you that she is no bubble head. Your so-called 'bubble-headed, bleach blonde' is the wife of a Death Eater of the Inner Circle and the mother of a junior Death Eater. Indeed, I know for a fact that the Dark Lord currently resides in Malfoy Manor."

"Lucius Malfoy is in Azkaban, and I'm not afraid of the ferret," she said. "Besides 'Bubbles' doesn't care about the Dark Lord. Her only concern is for her precious Draco."

"That's quite true," he agreed, "but suppose the Dark Lord had threatened to kill Draco unless she kidnapped you? Killed you?" A satisfied smile graced his lips as he watched the fearful truth of his words sink in.

"Oh," she whispered. "I didn't think." She sat there in shocked silence long enough for his self-satisfied smile to fade from his lips. It was moments later that she had the courage to tell him, "Thank you, Severus, I'll be more careful in future." For the first time, she used his name aloud.

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If there were one true thing that could be said of Minerva McGonagall, it was that time had not diminished her cat-like reflexes one iota. Glass dropping at her feet as her wand was suddenly in her fist, firing a nonverbal stunning spell at her intruder, she presented a formidable sight as she, with one great sweeping movement, stood to her full height and whirled around.

Had her uninvited guest been anyone other than her brother Robbie, who had often been the recipient of her wrath growing up, he would have been laid out on the floor of her living quarters. As it was, Robbie McGonagall, Solicitor both Muggle and Magical, had neatly tucked and rolled, coming up with a boyish grin. "So, that's how it is you welcome family," he told his surprised sister.

"Robbie McGonagall!" the professor cried as she clasped her still tightly held wand to her chest. "Are you trying to give me a coronary? You great goon!"

Robbie bent down to recover the tumbler of spilled whiskey. He stuck a finger in the puddle, bringing it to his mouth. "Gah, woman," he chided her, "and it was a Lochnagar Liquid Lava you spilled." He shook his head in dismay.

With practiced ease, Minerva flicked her wand, pulling up a matching chair and glass. "Have a seat, Robbie," she told him. "I'll pour another for you." Handing him a glass of whiskey, she refilled her own.

Brother and sister sat companionably for a few minutes, sipping the mellowing liquid and listening to the crackling of the low burning fire.

"You've news?"

"Aye."

She hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not going to like it, am I?"

He cocked his head and grimaced. "Don't suppose it's much to do with you."

She frowned, angry again. "It's about that damn Marriage Law, isn't it?"

"Aye."

"Dammit, Robbie, just say it," she ordered in her best teacher's voice.

Sighing, he turned to face his older sister. "All right," he muttered. "Here, pour me another." He held out his glass. "Seems the Ministry has finally caught on. You weren't the only one to think of the idea of marrying 'in name only' prior to enactment."

"Grazey," she called and was rewarded when the girl's house elf materialized without a sound. "Where's Hermione?"

The elf raised her ears, giving the distinct impression of frustration. "Missy 'Mione and Potions Master is having one big fiery row," she said, shaking her head.

Minerva muttered. "Well, at least she's relatively safe with the boy."

"But is he safe with her?" Robbie asked, a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes. "The girl is far too much like you, Min. If she's gotten her back up enough to argue with Severus, he might be the one in need of rescue," he said with a chuckle.

She impaled her brother with an icy glare causing him to laugh loudly. "Thank you, Grazey, when there's a lull in the battle, would you let them know I need to speak with them?" Her tone softened then. "Robbie, what's to be done?"

"I'm afraid, Min, that the two of them will have to consummate their marriage and produce a child or pregnancy by the end of the year."

Sighing with resignation, Minerva said, "All right, Robbie, I'll talk to the lad."

"Uhm," he grunted, "better you than me." Slowly he stood and polished off his drink.

Taking the glass, Minerva told him, "Och, Severus isn't so bad. He puts on a fearsome appearance to hide his soft heart." She laughed softly.

Robert McGonagall eyed his sister incredulously. "The man's a Death Eater, Min," he cried.

"Was, Robbie," she amended, "was."

Again, he grunted in disbelief, and added with more than a little sarcasm, "Aye, according to Albus Dumbledore."

"Are you tellin' me, Robert Malcolm McGonagall," she asked in irritation, "that you doubt Albus' judgment?"

"Aye," he returned angrily, "I do. He hasn't had the good judgment to snap you up, kept you on tether hooks all these years!"

Professor Minerva McGonagall went from mild irritation to outrage in seconds. "Brother or no, you've gone too far, man!" she shouted. "Get out, Robbie."

Without a word, Robert McGonagall nodded his understanding and left the room.


	9. Chapter 9

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many, many thanks for my amazing beta, Selek!

Please review.

 **Chapter 9**

His name sounded odd on Hermione's lips, and Severus wasn't sure if he liked it. "Well, now that we've settled that, perhaps we can return to the work at hand." He glanced around the kitchen. "It seems as if you've finished cleaning."

"Uh, yeah," she admitted. A blush rose in her cheeks as she remembered her ruthless scouring of the kitchen. "The walls are ready to be painted."

He hummed agreement and flicked his wand, changing his traditional Potions Master attire to something more suitable to painting. Clad in jeans, trainers, and a close fitting long-sleeved T-shirt, he looked more Muggle than she had ever seen him. "Shall we begin with the paint?"

Hermione smiled. She liked this version of him. When he was in what she thought of as Severus-mode, he was always a little kinder and made a real effort to be polite. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she glanced at the window. "Oh, it's stopped raining! Maybe we can open the windows while we paint," she suggested. "To air out the paint fumes. Maybe the wind will help it dry."

"Agreed."

They worked in quiet harmony until, finally, the kitchen gleamed like new. Snape stepped back and smiled. Even remembering the many unhappy hours he'd spent in this house, he could see what appeal it might have had when it was new. There was a certain coziness and cleanliness that had been lacking. He cut his eyes at the young woman standing beside him. Was this her doing? Making a meager house into something more?

The rain had stopped hours ago, and although a brisk wind was blowing, it had remained overcast. Now, just as they completed their project, the summer sun broke through. It fell in a sharp slant across the room, bathing both the room and Hermione with a golden glow. "It's beautiful," Hermione whispered.

"Indeed," Severus murmured. But he wasn't sure if he meant the room or her.

The spell was broken as Minerva's busy-body elf, Sosty, popped in. "Master Severus," she stated bluntly, "Missy Min needs the Master of Potions and Madame Snape now." Without giving either of them a chance to say a single word, she snapped her spidery-long fingers, closing up the house and whisking them away.

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Hermione reached out blindly for support, and finding Severus' arm, she held on until the nausea passed. Once she was steady on her feet, she let go and opened her eyes to see an angry and slightly tipsy Professor McGonagall observing them with hard green eyes.

"How dare you, Minerva!" Snape demanded rudely.

"Sit down," Minerva barked, "both of you." She pointed with her glass, sloshing a great dollop of whiskey over the side.

Severus' anger drained only to be replaced by growing trepidation. Things must be far worse than what he had been told. Minerva would never be so careless with Royal Lochnagar Liquid Lava. _Had Dumbledore died?_ Reluctantly and with fear, Severus settled into the chair recently occupied by Robert McGonagall. Hermione, full of disquiet, eased down onto the ottoman beside him.

Minerva cleaned her brother's glass and filled it, handed it to Snape then refilled her own. She sank into her own chair and was in the process of raising her glass for what was no doubt one too many drinks when she stopped.

Mumbling obscenities in a half dozen languages, Severus tossed back the whiskey and held it out for more. "What fresh hell are you to inflict upon me now?"

Slopping another round into his glass, Minerva spoke bluntly. "The Ministry, damn them, has finally caught on, meaning you'll have to get the girl with child."

"What?" Snape's voice was low and dangerous. "What. Did. You. Just. Say?"

"I may have slurred a word or two, but I didn't stutter, Severus," Minerva snapped. She took another drink. Silently and angrily, she gazed into the fire, sipping her whiskey.

"Hermione," Snape growled, "leave the room." His voice shook with anger, but he managed to use a polite tone.

"But don't you think I have the right- "

"I said leave!" Only a fool or a Gryffindor would ignore him. "Now!"

"No," Hermione argued, "this concerns me too! Minerva, don't you think-"

" 'To love, honor, and _obey_ '," Minerva quoted. She turned to gaze at her favorite student. "Might as well get used to it, Hermione, dear." Heaving a sigh, she resignedly pulled herself up from the chair, refilled Snape's glass as well as her own.

Hermione clenched her jaw in irritation and glared at her husband. "All right," she said, her voice shaking with anger, "I'll go, but I insist that I be included in-"

Snape waved a weary hand in her direction. "Yes, yes, yes," he told her before tossing back the contents of his glass. "Once we've double checked this - this asinine situation." He held the glass over his heart and intoned sarcastically, "I promise not to molest you without prior warning."

"You infuriating- ," she sputtered.

Minerva snorted and interrupted her. "As soon as we've made some sense of this, we'll call you."

Snatching the glass from the older witch, Hermione tossed back the entire contents. Nose burning and eyes watering, her face was a bright red as she fought the need to cough. She could feel the liquid heat burning its way down her chest like drain cleaner. With an angry toss of her head in Snape's direction, she turned on her heel and marched from the room.

Arching her brows, Minerva closed the door and wobbled slowly back to her chair. "I'm impressed," she muttered. "The lass didn't spill a drop."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

She was a full three corridors away from McGonagall's quarters when the full force of the Lochnager hit her. Whatever it was that her professors had been drinking, it wasn't butterbeer! Leaning against the wall, her hands covering her pale face, Hermione took a deep breath, hoping to dispel the rising nausea.

"Grazey." Her attempt at a whisper failed, and the slurred word echoed down the empty hallway.

With a popping sound that caused Hermione to clap her hands over her ears, Grazey appeared. "Missy 'Mione called Grazey?" she asked.

Using her elbows, Hermione struggled to stand upright. "Umm, yes, I'm not feeling well," she explained.

"You sick, Missy 'Mione?" Grazey asked, taking a step towards her young mistress. The reek of alcohol assaulted the poor creature's nose. Frowning with great distaste, the elf pinched her nose with the first two spidery fingers of her left hand. Humming with disapproval, the elf took Hermione by the arm, "You's not sick, Missy 'Mione. You's pickled!"

"No," Hermione cried. "I've only had the one drink. I'm not-" But her sudden loss of her tea and biscuits all over the floor belied her words.

Shaking her head, the steely eyed Grazey cleaned the mess with a quick snap, and with another she apparated them both away.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Filius sat back in his chair, an air of loss about him. "I'm sorry, Severus," he told the younger man. "I can find no loophole in this new law."

"Told you so," Minerva called out, her voice mellow and sing-songy. Although the three of them had finished the bottle of Royal Lochnagar's Liquid Lava, she had definitely had the lion's share. Now she lay back on her settee, muddle-headed, and unconcerned.

Severus and Filius gave their colleague a fleeting stare before exchanging meaningful looks. "What, do you suppose, is wrong with her?" Filius lowered his voice to a whisper. "I've never seen her inebriated like that." He frowned, the action cutting furrows in his brow. "At least not so mellowed out like that," he amended. "Usually, she starts a fight when she's that smashed, and it hasn't been since the late 60's that she's pulled a stunt like that."

Hiding his surprise and making a mental note for possible later blackmail, the younger wizard shook his head. "I haven't a clue," he intoned solemnly. "She was certainly past her first glass when I arrived."

Flitwick continued to frown and shake his head. "Be that as it may, Severus," he pitched his voice a tad louder to be heard over the most unladylike snoring he'd ever heard, "I see no way out of the situation. You'll just have to make the best of this marriage. I'm sorry."

The younger man stood angrily and began pacing, his long legs eating up the floor of Minerva's sitting room. "Are you sure, Filius? I know you are no lawyer, but you are one of the most intelligent men I know, a man whose opinion and advice I respect."

"Thank you, Severus," he replied sincerely. "As I said, there is no way to circumnavigate the law, but we might mitigate the situation by keeping the whole affair a secret, handling the details ourselves."

With halfhearted resignation, Severus nodded. "What do you suggest?"

Pulling a sheet of parchment and a fresh quill towards him, the Charms professor began a list. "A wedding ceremony conducted according to the Ancient Wizarding tradition has several requirements, which we could tweak. Since it is basically a legal contract, both parties, represented by counsel, must set forth their requirements for the marriage. A legal contract is drawn, which they sign, then they are married by a Ministry official." He stopped to scratch something on the parchment before him.

"That is easy enough," Severus declared. "Minerva and Pomona can assist Hermione, and you can aide me in drafting our demands. Robert McGonagall can be relied upon to draw up the actual contract."

"Next, you'll need someone from the Ministry to officiate and file the paperwork," Flitwick told him. "I have it!" His eyebrows shot up. "Arthur Weasley can do it."

Severus pinched his lips together and shook his head. "He would want to include Molly. Could you perform the ceremony?"

"Not and act as your counsel," Flitwick explained. "Of course, as a member of the Wizengamot, Albus could- "

"No," Severus said quickly, "We've kept Albus out of the current situation to protect his station." He looked away from the older man and added, "The Headmaster has other…concerns at the moment, and he is not at present on my list of favorite people."

Filius narrowed his eyes shrewdly at that comment, but he took note of the younger man's tone as well as his words. "Arthur it will have to be then. And, Severus, having Molly involved could be beneficial. You and Hermione will have to produce a child, and I can think of no one better suited to help her through her confinement."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and hung his head in defeat. "I hadn't thought of that, but you are right. Molly Weasley would, indeed, be most helpful." The Potions Master raised his head. "Let's adjourn and meet back here in the morning. Please bring Pomona, and we'll draft out the paperwork."


	10. Chapter 10

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Love and warm hugs to the best Beta in the business - Selek!

Please review.

 **Chapter 10**

A long ray of early morning sunlight slanted across Minerva's sitting room. The long oak table gleamed golden while tiny motes of dust swirled in the air. Robert McGonagall, dressed in his silvery-grey robes, sat at the foot of the table unpacking an elegant briefcase. He had foregone the stuffy white wig, choosing instead a deep blue power tie to match the blue Ravenclaw eagles that adorned the cuff and hem of his robes.

Arthur Weasley sat at the table's head. He was sorting through several official scrolls and forms. A pot of ink and several quills were set out before him, and already there were ink stains on his hands.

On one side of the table sat Filius Flitwick, counsel for the groom, and Severus in his best Potions Master finery. Snape's thunderous black expression and tightly buttoned lip matched his clothing. It was evident to all that he was a very unhappy man.

Hermione's counsel sat opposite the men. Pomona Sprout and Molly Weasley were settled on one side of Hermione. The young woman, dressed in a simple white blouse and dark skirt, held her hands over her head as it rested on the table.

Minerva laid a gentle touch on her shoulder, offering her a hangover potion. Hermione whimpered, lifting her head. "Thank you," she murmured as she tossed back the contents of the dark blue vial. Within moments, her headache and nausea were gone. She was even able to open her eyes without the sunshine stabbing her.

Minerva winked. "Severus makes the best hangover remedy." She sat down at the table next to her.

"Right, then," Robert McGonagall began. He flicked his wand and a double-sided parchment and two quick quills appeared in the air between the two parties. "I, Robert Burns McGonagall, acting as a neutral party, agree to draw up a legal marriage document between Severus Tobias Snape and Hermione Jean Granger." Another flick of his wand and the parchment was titled and inscribed with the statement. "Ladies first." He nodded to his left.

Pomona Sprout, a serious expression on her face, replied in a clear voice. "Hermione requires Severus' protection and asks him to provide for her."

Flitwick smiled at his wife. "Agreed. In return, Severus seeks a warm home and to be cherished."

"Agreed," Molly answered with a smile and nod. "Hermione would also request the right to continue her education."

With a quirk of his lip, Filius barely kept himself from laughing aloud. "My client is in absolute agreement on this topic; in fact, he insists upon it. Further, he requires a helpmate in return." The Charms professor leaned forward across the table and spoke directly to Hermione. "You must understand that you will not be eligible for a traditional education here at Hogwarts, at least not now."

"But, why?" Hermione cried. "If I am to remain at the school, why can't I continue with my classes?"

All the while Robert McGonagall's quick quills were recording the demands and counter-demands of the two, but here they stopped. They were specially charmed legal quick quills and would not transcribe anything that both parties did not agree upon.

"Because, dear," Minerva answer, "married students are not allowed to attend Hogwarts." She held out her hand. "Now, I know that, technically, we have already broken those rules, and I have no doubt there will be merry hell to pay for it later on." She sighed and looked around the table at her fellow co-conspirators. "But, during that semester, you and Severus were married in name only."

"We have a plan for your education," Pomona assured her. "You'll be given copies of syllabi from the classes you would have taken, and you'll do the work as an independent study." She reached over and patted the girl's hand. "Oh, don't look so glum, Hermione. You'll be able to move ahead at your own pace."

Flitwick gave her an encouraging smile. "Believe me, Hermione, Severus will make sure you finish your education and pass your N.E.W.T.'s."

"I refuse to procreate with an uneducated dunderhead," Severus added dryly.

Hermione swallowed hard. "All right," she said softly. "I agree."

With that the quick quills began scratching again. Robert McGonagall spoke next. "In compliance with the law number 7734, Hermione must agree to give Severus children. They are to offer one another faithfulness, honesty, and loyalty." He shifted in his chair, giving his older sister an apologetic smile. Taking a deep breath, he added, "And Hermione is required by this law to pledge him her obedience."

Molly ground her teeth. Pomona clenched her fists. Minerva glared murderously.

"Ladies," Severus drawled, halting the feminine mutiny before it could begin, "and gentlemen, may I take a moment to speak with my intended? In private?" He stood. "Perhaps while the rest of you go down for breakfast, Hermione and I might have a private meal here?"

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The sun was breaking over the horizon by the time the surgery was finished. An exhausted Poppy Pomfrey straightened up, her back crackling in protest. "Dobby, thank you for your help," she told the elf. " _Wingardium leviosa!_ " She held aloft the hermetically sealed cursed hand. "Now, if you'll please destroy this hand completely, we'll be nearly done."

"Dobby will destroy the hand," he answered solemnly, "just as Matron Poppy says. Then Dobby will return."

Poppy smiled, her soft cheeks filling with lines. "Thank you, Dobby. Albus?" She called gently and shook the Headmaster. "Albus, wake up."

Albus slowly sat up and blinked. "Poppy?" his asked, his voice harsh and scratchy.

She smiled and handed him his glasses. "The operation was successful. How do you feel?"

Donning his glasses, he raised his prosthetic hand and inspected it. "It looks just as before, but I feel no pain from the curse," he told her in surprise.

"Well, what did you expect?" she growled. "I don't do shoddy workmanship." She untied her pinafore and balled it up.

"Oh, I didn't mean to suggest that you did, Poppy." He gazed up at her. "It's amazing. I feel perfectly fine - no pain, nothing, but it looks just the same, right down to the blackness of the nails. Amazing, really." He turned the hand over in wonder.

"Dobby has destroyed hand," the little elf announced as he returned noiselessly.

Poppy nodded. "Good, the cursed limb is gone, and now you're in need of a hot, hardy meal."

"Dobby will bring something for Headmaster and Matron."

"No, thank you, Dobby," Albus said as he stood slowly. "I think I would prefer a meal with the others. Poppy, would you be so kind as to accompany me?"

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Severus stood. A ray of sunlight drifted lazily over him, creating a blue gleam on his ebony locks. "Hermione," he spoke with an uncharacteristically soft voice, "join me please." He gestured towards the two chintz chairs sitting near the fire.

Hermione rose. She couldn't help but smile. Impossibly prickly one minute and gently polite the next, he was such a puzzle of a man. With rapid steps and heartbeat, she followed him closer to the fire. "Grazey," she called out as she settled herself.

"Yes, Missy 'Mione, what can Grazey do for Master of Potions and his bride?" The little elf was actually jumping in place with excitement.

Blushing, Hermione told the elf, "Uh, would you please bring Prof -" She stopped herself, glanced at the dark man beside her, and squaring her shoulders, she began again. "Grazey, would you please bring breakfast for Severus and me?" Her voice was calm, betraying no sign of her nervousness.

Severus smiled. "Well, done," he told her. "I asked for some alone time for the two of us so that -" Here he stopped as Grazey returned with a joyful pop with two huge breakfast trays. "Thank you, Grazey," he said gravely with a half-nod, earning a squeak of delight from the small elf.

"I think she likes you," Hermione informed him when Grazey vanished. She received a non-committal grunt in return. A long, nervous silence stretched between them, which they filled with consuming their meal.

Leaning forward, Severus set his cup down with a decisive clink. "Hermione," he said softly, "I need to speak with you frankly about some things." He raised his head to look intently into her face. "These things are not to be spoken of outside of our marriage. Do you understand? Because of the - nature - of my - employment," he began quietly, soberly, with a raised brow.

She nodded slowly. "I understand. I would never betray you," she added.

"My life and that of yours and our - children - will depend on whether or not I can count on your discretion. That is why it is imperative that our marriage vows contain the phrase 'to obey'. It is not simply a legalistic matter."

"Can you promise not to give any petty or ridiculous tasks?" she asked. "I mean, with an unqualified vow like 'to obey' you could order me to…" she shrugged. "Oh, I don't know! To do something stupid like fetch your slippers and rub your feet."

"You mean, you wouldn't rub my feet?" he asked mildly.

Hermione's face darkened with anger. She opened her mouth, intending to blast him, when she noted the slight twitch of the corner of his mouth and a definite crinkling in his eyes. _He's teasing me._ "Oh, no you don't," she told him. "I'm not taking the bait."

"Pity," he murmured. His dark eyes continued to gleam with mischief for a moment longer, and then he became serious. "No," he conceded, "I'll not make silly demands. However, there may be times when you will view my requests as 'ridiculous' when they will be, in fact, essential. For those times, I will explain my orders once whatever dangerous situation has passed."

Hermione thought over his words while she gazed earnestly into his eyes. "All right," she told him. "I'll trust that you won't take advantage of me."

"Thank you." He shifted, crossing one long leg over the other, and leaned back in his chair, gaining both physical and mental distance. "Now, to address the topic of children," his said coolly. "Although we entered into this 'marriage' nearly six months ago, we are not equal partners." He snorted. "I doubt that we will ever be equals in this marriage; however, we must maintain a semblance of friendship."

"I thought we were friends," Hermione blurted out, the hurt in her words evident. "And why can't we be equal partners?"

Ignoring the young woman's obvious emotional upset, Severus told her. "We are unequal partners for many reasons. I hold the equivalent of a PhD in Potions while you haven't even completed your education. I am gainfully employed while you will be dependent upon me for everything." His tone was growing more acid with every word. "The age difference alone is enough to make us unequal."

"We can't alter the age difference," she said earnestly, "but the other factors will even out with time."

"We have no time," he hissed at her. "I have no hopes of surviving the coming conflict." At seeing her obvious distress, he held up his hand. "Long ago I agreed to devote my life to the defeat of the Dark Lord. And, when the end comes, regardless of what happens, I will be viewed as a traitor to one side or the other. I have accepted my fate, and you should be prepared for young widowhood."

"But -" she cried.

But he continued on, steamrolling over her reply. "Back to the topic of children: I am well aware of my reputation, of the fear, suspicion, and hatred with which others feel for me." Finally, he paused to take a breath. "I need to know if you find the idea of bestowing any motherly affection on a child of mine repugnant. Consider the question carefully before you make any grand and dramatic Gryffindor gestures. Remember that you will likely find yourself a young widow with at least one small child clinging to your skirts." He peered at her intently. "This is a matter of particular importance to me. If you find that you are unable to love and care for my off-spring, I will find a good Wizarding family to foster him or her."

Hermione was stunned. Her mouth dropped open, but before she could find the words to tell him how appalled she was at his suggestion, he had risen from his seat. Already he was calling for Grazey to clear away the breakfast and ask the others to rejoin them.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Albus Dumbledore, wearing his house robe and slippers, leaned on Poppy's arm for support. Although she had protested most vehemently, he had ignored her and insisted they go down to breakfast. His only thought had been for Minerva and settling things aright with her.

"Stupid, knuckle-headed, stubborn, jackass of a man," Poppy muttered in a steady stream as she ushered the Headmaster down to the staff room. She took a moment to swipe at her straggling hair with her free arm, but she only managed to destroy what remained of her usual tidy coiffure. "Damnation," she growled.

With a soft, slightly drunken chuckle, Albus chided her, "Language, Poppy." He leaned against her, admiring his new right hand. "And I must say that pain potion you gave me earlier is doing an admirable job." He wobbled a bit, and she took a tighter hold on him.

The pair entered the Great Hall to find the staff table full. Looking up at them with raised brows and eyes filled with speculation were the Hogwarts summer staff and guests. Filius and Pomona quickly gauged them, shot an equally assessing look at Minerva, and butted heads together in a private conversation.

Poppy's hair, askew with no hope of being contained without the mysterious feminine weapons of various sprays and a myriad of potions, floated around her shoulders. Her blue eyes were sparkling from a flushed face, and her normally immaculate dress was open at the throat.

Albus, looking bed-tousled, was wearing his bed robe and slippers. His left arm was around Poppy's shoulders while his right hand, blackened and bruised, held tightly onto her right hand. He was leaning heavily against his friend.

Molly eyed them both with suspicion and returned her gaze to her plate. Arthur, though, bit his lip, trying to hold down his rampant speculations. He cast a glance at Robbie McGonagall, sitting across from him.

Robbie, rising anger in his eyes, stood abruptly, wiped his mouth, and threw down his napkin. "Min," he barked at his obviously distraught sister, "you've yet to show me the room. Up with you now. No time to waste." He marched around the table and helped his sister from her chair.

"Minerva," Albus said. His voice, slightly slurred from the pain potion, gave the impression that he was a bit intoxicated. "I would like to speak with you in private."

"Not today, Dumbledore," Robbie answered for her. He tenderly herded Minerva towards the door. Now was not the time for her to explode - whether in tears or a fine Scottish temper. "Sis will be busy with me all the day." He pushed her from the room only to stick his head back inside for a parting shot. "In fact, she'll be busy helping me all the summer long."


	11. Chapter 11

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Love and warm hugs to the best Beta in the business - Selek!

Please review.

 **Chapter 11**

 **The next morning…**

"Budge over now." Pomona Sprout sat on the edge of the bed. "Time to rise and shine. It's well past noon," She prodded the slumbering lump.

With a groan of protest, Hermione sat up, rubbing her face. Unable yet to fully form words, she was reduced to giving Professor Sprout a pitiful look. The impromptu hen party the ladies had given her the night before was haunting her.

A smile on her lips, Pomona handed the half-wake young woman a mug of hot, black tea. "Yes," she laughed, "it does taste bitter, but it'll do the trick and wake you up. Merlin, girl, you look like a hedgehog!" Sprout laughed, her belly shaking. "Come on, come on, up you go." Pushing Hermione along, she added, "Into the shower with you. There, that's a good girl."

As the shower pounded on her head, Hermione silently blessed the stars for simple things like hot water and shampoo. How late had they been up last night planning this wedding? "Uh, Professor Sprout?" she called out. "Professor Sprout?"

"Yes, I'm here, dear," came the reply through the steam, "and do call me Pomona, hmm?"

"All right, Pomona," Hermione answered hesitantly. "Why are you here? I mean, I thought Minerva would - "

"Min is arranging some traditional details for the ceremony," Pomona said. "Molly, did you get the - ?"

"Oh, I did, indeed," the Weasley matron laughed. "Hurry along, Hermione, dear, there's much to do today."

Hermione, totally confused, turned off the water and quickly dried herself. As she stepped out of the shower, she was astounded to find both witches eyeing her critically. Her eyes grew wide.

"We're here to get you married," Pomona told her as she held out a series of old-fashioned garments.

"We're here to get you _properly_ married," Molly amended. "The Ministry, damn them, are very specific about the requirements of the law, and we're here to see that this is done in a way that protects both you and Severus."

All of the blood rushed from her face, leaving her as pale as the ivory wedding gown the two women had just pulled over her head. "I, I, I," she stuttered.

With calm deliberation, Molly proceeded to tame the young woman's hair. "Hermione, dear, you need to take a deep breath. Relax. You'll need your wits about you today."

Pomona bent forward to slip a pair of shoes onto Hermione's feet. Grunting with the effort to straighten up, she told her, "Molly, Minerva, and I will guide you through it, so you needn't worry."

"There now," Molly said cheerfully. She turned Hermione around and stood back with her hands on her hips. "You look lovely."

"Minerva and the wedding party are waiting in the sitting room with breakfast," Pomona told them. "Oh, Hermione, don't worry, child. Severus, for all his prickly ways, is a good man."

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This time, their wedding was a somber, elegant affair. Hermione, on the arm of Robert McGonagall, entered the Room of Requirement floating on a bright cloud of ivory. As if it sensed the needy anxiety and enforced sacrifices of the unwilling bride and groom, the Room itself seemed to make a concerted effort to create a calm and lovely atmosphere.

Bejeweled midnight skies sparkled above a spring, green lawn as Robert walked her towards a gazebo thickly covered with cascades of white wisteria blooms. Solemnly they passed through a veil of perfume as they stepped into the candlelit space, where Severus awaited.

As Hermione walked towards her husband, she was glad of Mr. McGonagall's steady arm. Until last summer, she had compartmentalized Severus as just another professor, worthy of her respect. She had thought of him as a brilliant academician, but she had also been very much aware that he was a bitterly spiteful man. But since that fateful day when he arrived to save her life, she had seen another side of him. Now, she knew that he was faithful and courageous, and brutally honest. She had learned that he could be witty and charming, too. Tonight, though, as she walked towards him, she saw yet another facet of the man. Tall, with an aristocratic bearing, he wasn't traditionally handsome - he would never be that - but he was striking. Yes, striking, powerful, and very masculine - a heady combination to her young woman's mind.

Robert placed her hand on Severus' arm and stepped back to stand beside his sister. Minerva, head held proudly, beamed her approval at him. Pomona and Molly stood together next to them. Pomona gripped Filius' hand tightly in her own as they exchanged loving looks, and Molly wiped away tears as Arthur, dressed in immaculate robes, began the ceremony.

Severus glanced over to the young woman beside him as he placed his hand on hers. What he saw frightened him. Standing beside him was not the silly, little girl he expected but a lovely young woman. Whiskey colored eyes framed by a pale face peered up at him trustingly. Two soft, feminine hands, wrapped around his own, led to a thin yet positively feminine frame. His bride - with all of her nearly seventeen years - brought a secret and sudden surge of joy to the dark, bitter man, and it terrified him. Clenching his teeth, he frowned and turned to face Weasley.

When Arthur Weasley completed the ritual binding them together, he solemnly instructed them to seal their contract with a kiss. Dutifully, Hermione closed her eyes and lifted her face to her husband. Severus swallowed the lump in his throat and castigated himself for a fool. He ground his teeth as he cupped her delicate face between his hands. Slowly and with poor grace, he leaned over, closed his eyes, and kissed his wife tenderly.

With their eyes closed and their lips lightly touching, the couple could not see the warm golden glow that engulfed them. They could only hear the hushed murmur of surprise and awe of their friends.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Where's Severus?" Dumbledore asked. He looked around the dining table in the Great Hall, noting that again the Head of Slytherin was not present. He held out a chair for Madame Pomfrey and then settled himself into his usual seat next to Minerva. "He wasn't at breakfast either."

"Excuse me," Minerva muttered politely to Pomona and Filius. She tossed her napkin onto her plate and stood up.

"Oh, don't go, Minerva," Poppy called to the Head of Gryffindor from her seat further down the table.

"Please stay," Dumbledore requested.

Minerva turned hard green eyes to the Headmaster. "Neither Severus nor I am required to account to you for our whereabouts out of term time," she informed him tartly. "If you'll pardon me?" With that, she turned on the heel of her best dress pumps and marched from the room leaving a distressed Dumbledore and a snubbed Poppy behind.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Severus stood to the side and allowed his young wife to enter, shutting and warding the doors once she was through. He gestured around his Spartan, bachelor's quarters. "It isn't much of a home, but it is yours for as long as you wish. You may, of course, change things to suit your tastes. I really don't care."

Looking around, Hermione examined her new home. Although it was scoured clean (no doubt courtesy of Hogwarts house elves), it seemed lacking in any personal touches. It reminded her of a hotel room.

He walked swiftly towards his small liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of Old Ogden's. Slowly, he moved towards the dark brown sofa and sank down, sipping the liquid.

"Ours," she replied.

He frowned. "What?"

Hermione gathered her courage and sat beside him before answering. "I said 'ours.' These rooms are ours, yours and mine."

He glared at her briefly, decided she was being sincere, and then nodded. "Of course," he muttered over the top of his glass. "If you choose to make any changes, please do not touch my books or my 'special' robes." He lifted an expressive brow.

Puzzled at first, Hermione caught on with a soft, "Oh, yes." Tentatively, she reached out a hand to touch his arm. "I'll do my best to make this a real home."

Severus flinched involuntarily at her touch and passed it off as he rose to his feet. "Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Neither am I," he muttered. "It's late. Perhaps we should simply to go bed." As he turned towards the bedroom, he did not see her jerk in fear.

Hermione swallowed hard and clutched her hands together as she entered the bedroom. She knew what was to come. Minerva had made sure she knew and understood. Hermione smiled, remembering the older witch's relief when she told her that her mother had already imparted the necessary knowledge. Molly, on the other hand, had told her how wonderful it would be, but Pomona had embarrassed them all with her ribald speculations.

"You may take the bathroom first."

"Um," Hermione said, "yes, I'll just go and, uh, change." She fled to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her in relief.

When she returned, dressed in her new diaphanous, white gown, Severus was already in bed. He was reclining against the headboard reading with his eyeglasses perched on the end of his long nose. Hermione quickly slipped into bed and lay there in nervous agitation.

He shut the book with a disgusted snap. "I am not going to touch you, so you may stop the dramatics!"

She sat upright, clutching the sheet to her chest. Confusion sat on her brow. "But," she stammered, "I thought that we…"

"No," he said, "we will not. Not tonight at any rate." He twisted in order to face her. "We barely know one another, and I still think of you as a child in my class." Quickly, his eyes took in the sight of her. Her honey brown hair and whiskey colored eyes were the same that he'd seen next to a maddeningly waving hand for the past six years. But the rest of her - no, she was no longer a child. He diverted his eyes, turning back to open the book.

"But I thought the law said…"

"Are you so eager then?" he purred. Slowly, he turned, setting the book aside, and moved panther-like towards her. "Is my little bride aching for me?" His voice, like dark chocolate, melted her. Gently, he pressed her back against the bed, leaning his full weight upon her. When she shivered, he chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound.

"No, no, that's, that's not what I meant," she stuttered. She could barely breathe as her heart thundered in her chest.

Abruptly, he returned to his side of the bed. He knew he'd made his point with her. And, he knew, too, that he dare not push himself further. The girl - no, he must be honest with himself - the young woman was far too tempting.

He snorted. "You are quaking with fear. I hope you realize now that I am correct in my belief that it would be best for us to wait. Go to sleep, Hermione," he ordered, as he rolled over away from her. "Nox."

"I am sorry, Severus," she whispered softly to his back. "Just please don't think I'm afraid of you. I'm not. I've just never. Well, you know. Good night, Severus."

Shock coursed through him. Sweet Circe! The girl was nearly seventeen and still a virgin! He didn't sleep a wink all night.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Hermione spent the summer working hard. Last summer, her professors had conspired to keep her as busy as possible to help her deal with her grief, and it had worked. With their love and support, she had been able to handle her heartache. This summer, she was still busy, but happily so this time. Minerva had explained that because of her married status, she would no longer be an official student at the school. However, she would be involved in the daily workings of Hogwarts by becoming a junior member of the staff.

So, H. J. G. Snape was added to the payroll as part-time secretary to Minerva McGonagall. Her mornings were spent with Minerva, assisting with sending out letters to in-coming Muggleborn students. Minerva had also insisted that she accompany her to meet with the parents of each student. How Professor McGonagall kept all of this a secret from the Headmaster was a mystery!

Hermione's afternoons were spent organizing and combining her and Severus' belongings. Grazey was a great help then. And together she and the little elf had created a home from those sterile, bland rooms. Severus never missed a detail, so she knew that he approved of the changes she had made to their quarters. If he hadn't appreciated her choices, he would have let her know in no uncertain terms.

Hermione smiled as she thought about Severus. She had learned more and more about her enigmatic husband over the summer. And, she realized now that he was right about them; they needed time to get to know one another better. At first she was her typical Gryffindor self, talking non-stop. Amazingly, he had waited patiently - well, patiently for Severus - until she had run out of things to chatter on about. Then, slowly, he had begun to open up to her about things. Oh, he would never open up completely; he would always hold something back, never truly trust anyone. And it made her wonder with as much anger as curiosity what could have happened in his past to make him feel the need to guard himself so tightly.

She heard the door open, and she jumped up. Carefully, she smoothed down her hair and adjusted the sleeves of her light blue summer sweater. Her usual jeans and trainers had been replaced with a khaki colored skirt and low heeled shoes. "Severus?" she said, "I hope you're hungry. Grazey has set a table with dinner in here."

He inhaled appreciatively. The little elf's dinners were delectable. He'd gained nearly half a stone this past month. He moved with his usual grace to hold a chair for his wife, and then he seated himself. An unguarded smile crept across his mouth, and Hermione answered with one of her own.

"Hermione," Severus said as he wiped his mouth, "I have just spoken with Minerva." He paused for a drink. "I am pleased that you are working with her as a junior member of staff."

"I'm really enjoying it," she replied with a smile. "So much so, that I'm going to miss it once classes begin."

"That's what I wish to speak with you about," he told her. "You know you won't be able to continue as a traditional student."

"Yes." For all her adult appearance, her voice sounded like a sulky teen.

Severus glared at her, earning a look of immediate repentance of her moment of immaturity. "I've spoken privately with your other teachers, and each one is more than willing to have you take a course of accelerated independent study. You will pick up a syllabus for each class and work diligently. I want you to have completed your NEWTs by Christmas, earlier if you can."

Hermione frowned. "I have no problem with that. In fact, I think it's a wonderful idea, but I don't know if I can manage two years' worth of work in only four months."

He chuckled. "If anyone can, my little over-achieving wife, you can." He laughed louder at the shocked look on her face, and then he sobered. "Hermione, there are events in the making this year, events that will shatter the calm here at Hogwarts. No, I cannot tell you more. But I will say that there will come a time when you will find yourself alone with a small child. I don't want either you or our child to suffer for my sins."

"Severus," Hermione cried, "you'll have to explain more."

"No," his tone was gentle but insistent. "I will not tell you more. Suffice it to say, that I am doing all I can to protect you." He reached across the table and took her hand and squeezed it to emphasize his next words. "You will achieve your NEWTS and accept an apprenticeship here with one of your professors. Should the school fall and you are cast out, you'll have the necessary education to accept a good position. I want you to be able to take care of yourself when I am gone. Do you have a preference?"

She blinked rapidly as her mind whirled with all the things he was telling her, both what he had said and left unsaid. However, there was no way he would tell her any more, at least not tonight. "I'd love to apprentice with Minerva. I've always had a fascination with transfiguration, and I've done well, I think."

He nodded. "That would be perfect. And come what may, Minerva will always protect you," he said to himself as much as to her. "I want you to speak with her about it tomorrow morning. Be sure to collect the syllabi and begin your studies tomorrow night. I'll help you in every way I can."

"Severus," she began hesitantly, "there's something going one that you're not telling me. I feel as if I -"

"You'll know when it comes. That's all I can say. Do not ask again." Although his words were cold and hard, his tone was not. "Hermione," he lowered his voice, "there is one more thing I want you to do. I want you to go with Charity Burbage tomorrow to take your Muggle Studies NEWT." He waved away her near panic. "You will pass it with no trouble. Then I want you to take an immediate assistant professor position with her as well."

"All right, but why?"

"Again, it will add to your income. By the end of this year, you may well find yourself friendless, homeless, and with a baby to support. And I fear for Charity as well. Although she is a Pureblood, she has completely rejected all overtures from the Dark Lord. She has, in fact, gone out of her way to denounce them most publically and has been labeled a blood traitor. She will need some support in the coming days."

"Good for her," Hermione announced. "But, you don't have to worry about me, Severus. I'll always have my friends, and they'll help me."

He gave her a very assessing glare. "You would do well to keep your mouth closed about certain 'political topics.' As the wife of a prominent Death Eater, it would be prudent for you to have no opinion on the matter other than the one I 'allow' you to have."

The old Hermione would have exploded at that remark, but the new, more mature young woman ground her teeth and smiled thinly. "Yes, husband," she intoned as submissively as possible.

Still, he glared haughtily at her from down the long length of his nose, but the twinkle in his dark eyes betrayed his act. "As for your _friends_ ," he spat out the word, "I think it would be best that you explain to them why you will no longer be a student. But remind them to keep it a secret."

"All right, _husband_ ," she answered sweetly. She could play the game, too. She would have to. "I'll speak with Harry and Ron as soon as they return."


	12. Chapter 12

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Kisses, hugs, and eternal thanks to Selek, the best beta ever! And, thank you so much for my reviewers. You guys are great.

Please review.

 **Chapter 12**

 **Late August 1996**

The screaming began precisely at 2:00AM. Hermione sat bolt upright, her heart racing in her throat. Her wand was in her hand in mere seconds. "Lumos!"

Beside her, Severus was curled tightly in a ball, shaking with fear. Cold, sweat-soaked sheets tangled around his hands that clutched frantically at his head. "Pleeeeease! No!" he screamed. "I dint mean it. Uhm sorry, sorry, sorry."

He was pleading desperately, his throat raw, his voice hoarse, and Hermione feared he was deep in a nightmarish remembrance of some horrible torture by the Dark Lord. Then, her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach as she began to put together his begging cries.

He was sobbing now. "Da, don', please! Please! Da! Da! I won't."

Hermione sat in shock. His tears and cries and fears - those scars on his back - were from his own father. How could any parent - She couldn't even finish the thought in her own mind. Gently but with alacrity, she disentangled his hands, crooning soft, comforting words. She pulled him to her breast and rocked him like a baby, murmuring wordless sounds of reassurance, pausing only now and then to wipe away his tears.

"Severus, love, hush now, baby," she soothed him as she brushed his hair back from his face. She tenderly kissed his forehead. "Wake up, Severus. Everything is all right. I'm right here, and I won't let anyone hurt you."

His terror filled eyes popped open, and he tensed with dread as if expecting another blow. He shuddered with a sigh of relief when he recognized Hermione bending over him instead of the nightmarish paternal figure. Fear quickly gave way to embarrassment, and he moved roughly away from her.

"Severus?"

"I'm fine," he snapped. "Just leave me alone!"

Wisely, she said nothing. She knew that he needed a bit of time to regain his dignity and tack together the tattered edges of his pride. And, he was a proud man. "Accio water." She quietly summoned a glass of water, and without another word, she handed it to him.

He refused to meet her eyes, but he accepted the glass with trembling hands and drank deeply. "Thank you," he muttered then sent the empty glass back. He heaved another deep sigh and drew his knees up to his chest.

His hair fell forward, obscuring his features, and he stared at her from under the long locks. When he spoke again, his words were stiff. "Hermione, we are required to produce children." He shifted nervously. "The child that we will create," he said slowly, "it will be unwanted, but -" He stopped and swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was raspy with emotion. "I believe that all children _should_ be wanted. That all children _deserve_ to be loved by their parents."

When he couldn't continue, Hermione reached for his hands in the darkened room. "Severus?" She was heart-broken to see this sarcastic, bully of a man with silent tears in his eyes.

Inhaling deeply, he viciously shoved back his emotions. "My parents," he informed her angrily, "married only because my mother was pregnant with me. Neither of them wanted me, and they frequently and loudly made sure I knew just how much." He sat back abruptly, snatching his hands from hers and crossing his arms. "I will not have a son or daughter of mine treated in the same way."

She stared blankly at him and wet her lips. She knew she had to choose carefully her next words. "I agree with you completely," she told him with a timid smile. "Our child will be loved, Severus," she assured him. "He will be brilliant and brave and cunning and loyal, and he will be loved beyond measure." She dared to put her hand on his.

His eyes narrowed as he judged her words and their sincerity. For the briefest of moments, they darted down to where her tiny, white hand lay against his larger, rougher one. Severus turned his hand over to clasp hers and then looked her squarely in the eye. "Our child will be willful and stubborn, mischievous and sneaky."

Her smile grew. "Of course, he will," she agreed passively. "And it will take our combined efforts to manage him."

He swallowed hard at the announcement. "She will be a singularly ugly child with horrible hair, bad teeth and poor eyesight. She'll no doubt have a hooked nose and an acid personality."

Hermione laughed outright at that. "Then, we'll get her a good stylist, braces, and contact lenses. We'll even get her counseling and cosmetic surgery if we need to." She sobered then and returned his hard stare. "But, make no mistake, our child will be loved."

 **September 1, 1996**

Harry frowned as he wearily plopped down at the Gryffindor table. His nose still hurt. "Nothing," he answered the question in Ginny's worried eyes. "Where's Hermione?" He glanced over at the empty seat next to Ron.

"I don't know," Ginny answered. She frowned, still unhappy with his refusal to explain why his shirt was bloody. "I've been looking for her since we got here."

"She's jush up dehr," Ron mumbled through a mouthful of turkey. He pointed vaguely with his fork towards the staff table. "Sittin by 'fessor 'bage."

Ginny and Harry whipped around to see their friend, dressed in the robes of a professor, sitting at the far end of the staff table next to Professor Burbage. "Why didn't you tell me you'd found her?" Ginny hissed at her brother with frustration.

Ron looked up, bewilderment on his face, and swallowed. "You didn't ask."

"Oh, you great idiot!" Ginny pelted him with a roll.

"Ginny!" Lavender exclaimed. "That isn't helping."

"Shh," Harry chided them both. "Dumbledore is speaking."

"Welcome to Hogwarts," cried Dumbledore to the seated assembly. "There are a few changes as you can see." He held out his blackened right hand to indicate the staff table, and then, as he realized the students were staring at it, he tucked it behind him. "Um, yes, we have persuaded Professor Slughorn to return from retirement to teach Potions this year, as Professor Snape has taken over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Also," he continued over the murmur of student voices at this news, "as the Ministry has declared that all Pureblood wizards will be required to take Muggle Studies, we have an additional Professor of Muggle Studies. Our own Hermione Granger has not only taken and passed her NEWTS this summer but also her teaching credentials." He smiled at the youngest member of his staff. "Also, she will be apprenticing with Professor McGonagall."

He paused to look quickly at McGonagall. She nodded at him sharply once, her lips pinched together tightly, her eyes like cut glass. He glanced down at the podium briefly for a moment and sighed before gathering his thoughts with a fake smile. "You know her as Miss Hermione Granger, and although she was married this summer, she will use her maiden name as her professional one."

Shock and anger crowded the room, but Dumbledore merely sat back down and returned to his pudding. From the Pureblood wizards came a collective groan of frustration over additional course work; the Slytherins, in particular, felt such a class to be beneath them. The witches, especially those who had been following the recent legislation, were horrified, heart-broken, and sickened that Hermione, one of their brightest, had fallen into forced matrimony.

Ron sat stunned. With shaking hands, he raised his pumpkin juice and drained the glass. "Did Dumbledore just say Hermione is married?" His voice was hoarse.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. "Do you ever listen to anything besides your growling belly?" she snapped at him. "Honestly, Harry, tell him." When Harry merely stared at her in dumb ignorance, she stood from the table, folded her arms indignantly, and marched away.

"Oh, Won-Won," Lavender said with sincere anguish, "don't you boys pay attention? Last year, the ministry set up the Marriage Act."

"Well, yeah," Ron said off-handedly, "but what's that got to do with Hermione?"

Parvati Patil, Lavender's counterpart, sighed. "According to the law all Muggleborn witches must marry a Pureblood wizard and have a couple of children."

"So, who did Hermione marry?" Harry asked anxiously. It wasn't anyone he knew, or he was sure they would have heard by now.

"The girl has no say in the matter. A Pureblood wizard petitions for her, and they get married. So, there's no telling who poor Hermione is stuck with," Lavender informed them with a sniff.

"And the wizard must be at least thirty years old," Parvati said sympathetically. "She's probably married to some old geezer, who only wants a smart wife who can give him lots of smart heirs."

Ron shot Parvati an horrified look. "No," he sputtered, "no, Dumbledore wouldn't let that happen." He looked frantically to Harry.

Harry frowned. "I don't think he could openly defy the law, Ron," he stated firmly.

Ron was still blustering when Hermione joined them after the feast. Barely stopping as she walked by, Hermione quickly whispered in Harry's ear. "We need to talk," she told them earnestly. "There's an unused classroom around the corner. Could you both join me there?"

Harry deliberately folded his napkin and set in down. He gave a quick nod to Ron, and the boys, as one, stood and followed her out of the main hall.

Once they were inside, Hermione seated herself, and then she looked up at them. "Please sit down," she whispered. Hermione set a locking and silencing spell in place as the boys drew up chairs near her.

She sighed as she saw their curious faces. "Yes, I'm married, but that's not the important thing I have to tell you."

"Who, Hermione?" demanded Ron, his face red and his voice quavering. "Who is he?"

The old Hermione, if she had noticed Ron's adolescent attraction for her, would have been girlishly pleased with his masculine protective stance. The new Hermione, having matured far faster than normal, felt only sorrow. At one time, she would not only have welcomed his feelings but also returned them. Now, it was terribly, terribly inconvenient and potentially volatile. Both young men deeply disliked her husband.

"That's not the important thing," she repeated. "There are changes coming, terrible things." She sighed loudly. "I promise you I am in no danger. The professors and your parents -" she eyed Ron with significance, "- were at the wedding, and it was the best solution. I can live with it, so you two can as well."

The boys, accustomed to obeying her, gave her grudging nods. "All right, Hermione. What's going on?" Harry was the first to speak.

"I'm not sure, but sometime this year, the school will fall to V-Voldemort." Ron cringed at the use of the name, but Harry only clenched his teeth. "I know that Dumbledore has several tasks for you, Harry, and I know that eventually, you're going to need help."

"What tasks?" Ron questioned. "You know I'll help you with anything. Well, except maybe spiders." He grinned to lighten the mood. "You know I hate spiders."

Harry snorted a small laugh. "I can't tell you what the tasks are yet, but once I do and am able, I'll let you both in."

"No, Harry," Hermione insisted. "You tell Ron but not me. I won't be able to leave Hogwarts, and I am bound by my marriage vows not to keep anything from my husband, should he ask. You should get Ginny or Luna to help you."

"Ginny?" Ron snorted in amusement. "Not my little sister. She'd drive me round the twist. Luna's, well, Luna, but she's -"

"Smart," Harry concluded. "Not as brilliant as you, Hermione," he told her, "but what about you?"

"Don't worry about me," she said with a smile. "And I'm already working on some plans to help us defeat -"

"Don't say it, again," Ron interrupted her. Then, he softened his tone. "Hermione," Ron asked gingerly, "I know you'll have to obey your husband and all, but why can't you just leave Hogwarts and come with us without asking his permission? You can't disobey him if you don't give him a chance to say no."

Harry grinned and elbowed Ron. "Like the time we took the Ford Anglia and flew it to Hogwarts?"

"Well, yeah, mostly," Ron conceded with a grin. "It's always easier to get forgiveness than it is to get permission."

"So, Hermione, why don't you come with us anyway?" Harry asked.

"Because," Hermione whispered, "the law states that I should have a baby by then."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Hermione squared her shoulders and entered her classroom with a thrill of excitement and more than a twinge of fear. She had been given the task of instructing the Pureblood wizards in the jobs involved in running a Muggle household. Her students, most of whom were forced to take the class, consisted of sixth and seventh year Pureblood wizards, which gave her a grand total of eleven students.

"Oi, 'mione," Ron called, "why do we have to take this class?"

Theo Nott nodded vigorously. "That's what I'd like to know!"

Hermione explained patiently, "As to why you are required to take this class, the Ministry feels that since all Pureblood wizards must marry a Muggleborn witch when they reach thirty, it would be conducive for all prospective bridegrooms to be able to understand, in part, the background of their prospective brides. Now -"

"Cuh-doo-say?" Crabbe blurted out. "What's that?"

Nott, laughing hysterically, shouted, "That's so you can get -"

Ron bolted to his feet, his face flaming. "Shut your dirty mouth!" he bellowed. "You're not gonna talk like that to 'mione!"

Blaise Zabini rose from his seat and snatched Crabbe, who had risen to Ron's challenge, back down into his desk. "Sit down, you idiot," he growled. "Use smaller words, Granger, to explain why we have to take your Merlin-be-damned class."

"Sweet Merlin!" moaned Ernie McMilan, the lone Hufflepuff. "Why is it that everything must be a bloody battle between Gryffindor and Slytherin?"

"There's no need for rudeness," Neville spoke up. "Sit down, Ron." He pushed his housemate back to his seat.

"Enough!" Hermione yelled as she slammed both hands down on the desk. Instantly, her class settled down. "The name is Professor Granger, and I will be addressed as such." Her voice had become quiet and deadly. "You are in this class because the Ministry said so. Ten points from Gryffindor and fifteen from Slytherin!" She glared at them in conscious imitation of her husband. "And the first one of you who dares say one more word will have detention!"

After she showed the young men that she demanded their respect, things ran much more smoothly. Within the next few weeks, Vincent Crabbe, in his own plodding way and doing the least amount of work possible, managed, with a great deal of repetition and patience on Hermione's part, to understand the fundamentals of running a Muggle home. In fact, he was becoming first rate at dusting and vacuuming.

After coming to an uneasy truce, Ron and Theo Nott had quickly mastered the basics of house cleaning, so Hermione had moved them forward to laundry. Once they realized that it was their own clothing they were to launder, they stopped fooling around and began making a real effort at learning. She'd only had to give them one Troll grade, but what had really done the trick was their horror at realizing they had accidentally dyed their shorts pink.

Neville and Ernie were always polite and worked hard no matter what the task. Merlin bless them! He and Ernie had organized the pretend Muggle home. Neville had naturally gravitated towards creating a non-magical, Muggle herb garden. Ernie outshone them all for when he stepped into the kitchen and began creating Muggle culinary feasts, which many of the Hogwarts house elves came to watch in awe.

And Blaise Zambini was doing a splendid job creating and balancing a budget. Hermione was going to put him in charge of the "shopping" project she had planned for the next week. She had thought that Draco might be interested in that job since he was now in charge of the Malfoy fortune and estates, and surely, she thought, financial matters would appeal to him.

But Draco was unusually quiet this year. Oh, he still gave her filthy looks on occasion, and he was surly to nearly everyone - even the other Slytherins. But he had changed, and Hermione could see it if no one else could. He was thinner and paler, his hands seemed to twitch of their own accord, and he seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

In fact, he reminded her a great deal of Severus, and she wished she could help him.


	13. Chapter 13

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. SELEK is the king of all beta readers! Much thanks to my reviewers. I do so appreciate your kindness.

Please review.

 **Chapter 13**

 **September 20, 1996**

A last minute staff meeting had been called for Friday afternoon, and no one was happy about it. With mumbles and grumbles the faculty arrived and plopped down in their regular seats.

"Meet me at the front gates as soon as this damnable meeting is over," Severus whispered to Hermione as he passed her chair. "Charity," he added loudly with a nod to the woman sitting next to her.

Hermione wanted to blurt out, "Why? Where are we going?" Her ever-present curiosity was aroused, but, of course, she couldn't. Severus had completely ignored her birthday yesterday, which had upset her. But like a "good wife" of a Deatheater she had accepted his apparent oversight by hiding her hurt feelings.

Minerva, as she had since the beginning of term, was sitting on her apprentice's other side in a clear snub to Dumbledore. Although the rest of the staff was by now well-aware of the fact that their Headmaster and his Deputy were at odds, the novelty of the situation was still present, and speculation ran high. And, when her accustomed chair was taken by none other than Poppy Pomfrey, some of the staff had taken a positive glee in creating a betting pool.

Dumbledore opened the meeting with his usual pep talk, followed by his listening to various requests and complaints. He made a point of asking about Hermione's start of term. Then, he addressed the topic of his hand.

Removing his half-moon spectacles, the old man polished them on his sleeve. He resettled them with a frown once he realized that all he had managed to do was smear whatever was smudged on them all over the lens. "As I'm sure you are all aware by now," he said with a slight huff, "my hand has been damaged over the summer." He held it up, glasses held between his fingers. "I'm not willing to go into any details about it. Suffice it to say, that it isn't good for my overall health." He glanced over at Poppy, and Minerva stared intently at the quill in her hand.

Glances and wild conjecture bounced all over the room. There was a long pause, punctuated by the rustling of parchment and the squeak of chairs. Severus, long used to playing the role of villain, broke the silence. In his usual sardonic drawl, he lazily asked, "Have we done yet?"

Albus looked up sharply, but then he relaxed his features into a fatherly smile. "Almost," he conceded. "There is one more point of business to address. Sirius?"

The History of Magic professor smiled radiantly around the room at his colleagues. "It is with great pride and joy that I announce the impending increase to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black." Eyes lit up and cries of congratulations rang around the room.

Even Snape offered his best wishes to the happy couple. "Oh, joy," he droned in a monotone. "Oh, rapture." While Sirius Black and Septima Vector Black were not his favorite people, he had to admit that theirs was one Ministry-made marriage that had been most favorable. The two obviously adored each other. Funny, the thought no longer seem to turn his stomach; instead, it seemed to make him envious of their good fortune.

Gently tossing his blurry eyeglasses on the roll of parchment in front of him, Dumbledore chided Snape gently. "Severus, please." He shook his head like a father over a much-beloved but errant child. Then, the old man continued. "I will be asking Remus Lupin to rejoin our staff in October as an assistant professor of Arithmancy. He will assist Septima until her confinement and then conduct her classes for her maternity leave." He turned his hopeful blue eyes on Slughorn. "Horace, would you be willing to brew the wolfsbane potion for him?"

"If he won't," Snape snipped, "then I will volunteer. I'll also volunteer to make gallons of anti-nausea potion for Mrs. Black, strawberry flavored." He gestured with a flippant motion towards Septima. "Anything to end this bloody meeting and get on with my weekend."

"Well," grinned Dumbledore, "meeting adjourned."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Well, done, Severus," Horace Slughorn grinned conspiratorially at him. He and Minerva had joined Hermione at the front gate.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're rattling on about," the younger wizard retorted.

"Out of the goodness of your heart, you volunteered to make not only the wolfsbane potion for Remus but also an anti-nausea potion for Septima," Minerva said. She leaned over then and gave the younger wizard a quick kiss on the check.

Severus jerked back as if he'd been burned, wiping fiercely at his cheek. "Have you lost what little sense you had?" he shouted. "How dare you assault not only my character with charitable thoughts but also my person with your unwanted affections!"

Chuckling with delight, Horace shook his head, and Hermione hid her grin in her fist. Minerva merely smiled affectionately at Severus, cast a _leviosa_ on their luggage, and took Severus' arm. "Well," she told Slughorn, "my brother, Robbie, is a rather impatient man, so let's be on our way." Then, she, Hermione, and Severus apparated away, leaving a still chuckling Horace Slughorn behind.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Minerva, why did you lie to Professor Slughorn?" Hermione asked in utter disbelief. They had reached Minerva's cottage, and the older witch was settling her luggage inside.

"Why, child," Minerva returned tartly, "I did nothing of the kind. I merely commented that my brother is impatient, which he is. If old Sluggy runs back to Dumbledore with the impression that Severus and I were taking you for a weekend visit with Robbie, all the better."

"Oh," Hermione said softly. "It keeps up the impression that I'm married to your brother. Still, it doesn't seem right, misleading the Headmaster."

"And," Severus added with a smirk, "if Horace runs back with tales of my going with you and your having kissed me, it's even better. Isn't that right, Minerva?" Still grinning, he swept his wand over himself, transfiguring his clothing into a stylish, Muggle suit.

Minerva silently arched an eyebrow at him and pursed her lips. She snorted and turned her wand on Hermione, replacing the girl's robes with a lovely dress.

Chuckling darkly, Severus told Minerva, "You're not a quality Slytherin yet, but you're learning."

"Get along with you then," she replied. "I'll expect you two back Sunday afternoon."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Severus?" Hermione asked as they arrived at their apparation point inside London. "Where are we going dressed like this?"

He took her hand and glanced down at her as he hailed a cab. Climbing inside, he instructed the driver and cast a subtle _muffliato_ before answering her. "Now, that you are officially seventeen," he informed her. "We will have our honeymoon." He stared ahead but watched her reaction from under a curtain of hair. "I tried to hold off, hoping that damned law would be repealed, but, as it did not, it is time to consummate our marriage."

Hermione nodded. "All right," she told him. Gently, she squeezed his hand. "I'm not afraid."

While Severus paid the driver, the doorman of the Ritz assisted Hermione out, and then he took their luggage from the boot. As they registered at the desk, it became apparent that Severus had gone through a great deal of time and effort for their trip.

A bellboy followed them with their luggage up to their reserved bridal suite, and he was soon joined by several staff members bearing trays. With utmost precision the workers prepared an elegant candle lit dinner for two complete with champagne and mounds of flowers.

Although she didn't really think it was amusing when Severus obliviated them all in lieu of tipping, she giggled. Regardless of what she had told her husband in the cab, she was becoming increasingly anxious.

The opulent room was aglow with the flickering light of many, many candles, and the scent of the flowers was intoxicating. "This is really impressive," she said nervously.

Severus smiled gently at her, and he cast an impressive lock on the door, warded it, and set a _muffliato_. Then, with fluid grace, he held out her chair before seating himself across from her where a scrumptious meal had been laid. He, too, was a bit nervous about the events to come.

"Have you ever tasted champagne?"

She watched with some trepidation as Severus popped the cork and filled her glass. "No," she answered. "It isn't anything like what you and Minerva were drinking that night, is it?"

Severus' mouth quirk as he filled his glass. "No, that was Royal Lochnagar Liquid Lava, a very expensive and potent whiskey." He raised his champagne flute and gestured for her to do the same. "This should be more to your liking."

Hermione sighed with relief and raised the sparkling liquid. "It looks a bit like pop," she said. "That other, though -" she shuddered, "- was a bit like drain cleaner."

He chuckled. "A toast - to us - may our marriage be advantageous if not affectionate."

"To us," she echoed, "may we prove caring and considerate if nothing else."

A genuine smile lifted the corners of his lips, and he took a long sip of the champagne. Hermione returned his smile and drank as well.

Some time during her second glass of champagne, Hermione became talkative. The more bubbly she grew, the more Severus's smile turned into a grimace. Just when he thought he couldn't take any more of her continuous talking and was ready to explode, he remembered some advice Arthur Weasley had given him the morning of the wedding.

"Severus, do you know the best way to stop a woman from talking?" the Weasley patriarch asked with a gleam in his eye. "Kiss her!" He laughed at his own words.

At the time, he'd taken it as a joke, a very bad joke, but now Severus was willing to do almost anything to stop the torrent of words. Resolutely, he stood up, set down his glass, and jerked his wife up and into his arms. He pressed his lips to hers, stemming the flow of her words, and deepening the kiss.

Hermione froze. Her words halted abruptly, cut off by his kiss. But that kiss! That incredible kiss! Never had she been kissed like this before. She wound her arms around his waist, spilling champagne over his coat, and melted into the kiss.

When Severus released her, there was blessed silence, and his young wife stood flushed and short of breath. Chalk one up for Arthur he thought happily as he silently thanked the older wizard for the advice. He smiled at Hermione.

"Ummm," she murmured. "That was nice." She wobbled back and raised her glass to her lips, only to realize that it was empty. "Oh, Severus, your shirt and coat!" she exclaimed, setting her glass down. "Here, let's get you out of those wet things."

At her urging, Severus slipped off his damp shirt and jacket. He noted that her eyes dilated and her breath grew short as she helped him undress, but she was also growing a tad nervous again. To cover her uneasiness, Hermione began babbling a steady stream of constant apologies.

Severus ducked his head, hiding behind her hair, and refilled their glasses. Her talking was quickly getting on his nerves again. As it seemed Weasley's plan had not only the desired effect to stop her chatter but also made her respond quite encouragingly to his romantic overtures, Severus decided to try it again. Capturing her face between his hands, he kissed her again, gently and lovingly this time.

Hermione stood on tip-toe and held onto his bare, warm shoulders. This kiss, so different from the first one, made her dizzy. She swooned into him, parting her lips in an unconscious invitation.

He pressed her against him and deepened the kiss, enjoying the sweet champagne taste of her mouth. When her knees buckled, he scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom. He laid her across the bed, kissing her forehead, her eyes, and her throat.

Lying beside her with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, he watched as she slowly opened her eyes. He rolled away from her to reach into his pants pocket to remove two vials. "Here," he said as he showed them to her, "is a very potent, long-lasting polyjuice potion. I want -"

Hermione frowned and sat up. "What do you mean?" she interrupted him. "Are you suggesting," she asked, her voice rising, "that I take polyjuice? Do you want me to be someone else? On our honeymoon? How dare you!" Her voice, angry and slightly slurred, was strident. "Who is she?" she demanded. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. "Narcissa Malfoy!" she hissed. "You want me to be that bubble-head bitch, don't you?"

Severus held his temper in a double-fisted grip to keep from exploding. Suddenly, he realized the truth about something that Minerva had told him. The girl was jealous, which meant that she truly did care for him. The knowledge filled him with tender warmth, a feeling he hadn't felt since his Muggle grandmother had died when he was seven.

"Hermione," he called out. But she didn't hear him. Her temper, which now equaled his own, was at a white hot pitch. Still he continued to smile at her, which only incensed her further. Grabbing her hands, he pressed her back against the bed and kissed her into silence. Yes, he thought as she yielded into him again, this kissing works wonders. It's better than a soundly cast _stupefy._

He rose up, yet continued to loom over her. "If you are finished with that ridiculous display of histrionics," he murmured, "I will explain." He placed a finger against her mouth to prevent any reply. When she showed no sign of protest, he helped her to sit up. "The polyjuice," he explained as he again offered one of the vials to her, "is for me to drink. The vial you are holding contains hair samples from Potter, Weasley, Malfoy, and Zabini."

"Severus?" she questioned softly, confusion in her voice. Then, her whiskey-colored eyes filled with tears as the truth slowly dawned on her.

He shrugged, tilting his head to hide behind his hair. "I wasn't sure which of those young men you preferred," he clarified. Then he lifted his head and narrowed his eyes, glaring at her with hurt masked as anger. "I saw you making that batch of polyjuice potion earlier this summer right after our wedding. I assumed you were making it to ease your 'wifely duties' with me."

"Oh," she murmured. "Oh, no, Severus, that polyjuice wasn't for me," she explained with a little smile. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to make a huge batch for him. He said that with his injured hand he couldn't quite do it for himself, and he didn't want to bother you or Professor Slughorn." She shrugged. "I didn't mind brewing it, and the practice helped prepare for the NEWTS."

Severus frowned. "You must have made the equivalent of hundreds of liters of it. What, in the name of Merlin, did he want with it all?"

She shook her head. "I'm don't know. I imagine it's for the Order."


	14. Chapter 14

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many thanks to Selek, the Wonder Beta! And a big thank you for all my reviewers. It really does help.

Please review.

 **Chapter 14**

 **October 31 - School Halloween Party**

"Severus," Sirius Black called out, "I'd like to thank you for the anti-nausea potion. Septima swears by it. She says the strawberry flavoring is wonderful." He pointed with his free hand towards his wife.

Severus eyed the man skeptically and nodded briefly.

"And I'd like to thank you for the wolfsbane potion," Lupin added as he joined them. He held two glasses of Halloween party punch and offered one to the Potions Master.

Severus eyed both men suspiciously, coolly assessing them. "You can thank me by remembering to take it," he replied curtly. Dipping his chin towards the punch, he added, "No, thank you. I'd prefer something stronger."

Sirius grinned. "So do we." He pulled his coat open slightly to reveal a bottle. "Filius helped me sneak it in." Surreptitiously, he reached to pour a little into both glasses Lupin held.

When Severus still made no move to accept the drink, Sirius nodded a bit sadly. "I understand why you don't trust us. We were bloody bastards to you in school, and we're both sorry for it."

"It's true," Lupin added. "You're a good man, Severus, and we misused you. We'd like to make amends if you'd let us. Please accept out apologies."

Severus stared at the two men, making them feel dreadfully like rotten blighters. "Perhaps," he drawled, "with time." He took the offered drink. "If you'll excuse me, I have an…engagement."

"I'd say that was a roaring success," Sirius said. "I mean, the old Severus would have hexed us bloody good and kept on walking. Do you suppose the old boy is mellowing out a bit? Eh, like us?"

Lupin's nose was twitching, and there was puzzlement on his face. "You know, Padfoot," he said slowly, "if it weren't Severus, I'd say there went a bloke who'd just been with his woman."

"Nonsense!" Sirius scoffed. He took a long sip of his drink. "You really think so?"

Slowly, Lupin nodded. "He smelled of cologne and -" he hesitated, "sex."

"Well," Sirius murmured, "rumor has it that he and McGonagall -"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" Remus interrupted. "McGonagall?"

"Oh, come on, Remus," Sirius argued. "We all had a bit of a crush on her when she was our Head of House. She's not so bad looking even now."

"Oh, she's a handsome woman, all right," he agreed, "but she's scary as hell. I'd be petrified to approach her." He took a sip of his drink. "Besides, I always thought she and Dumbledore were together."

"They might have been once," Sirius replied with a slick grin, "but rumor has it that Dumbledore and Poppy Pomfrey…"

"Don't want to hear it, mate," Remus said with a shudder. He drained his cup.

"Worse thought, Moony," he grinned lasciviously, "is who'd be shagging Severus?"

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Hermione," Minerva said, as she took the young woman's arm, "I thought you weren't feeling well." She looked her apprentice up and down.

Hermione blushed with a smile. "I'm feeling better now," she explained. Then, lowering her voice to a whisper, she added, "He gets so depressed this time of year. I wish I knew why."

Minerva pursed her lips and gave a definitive Scottish noise. "Aye," she smiled knowingly, "I know a tad about lifting a man's spirit." She laughed when Hermione blushed again. "Have some punch," she told the girl, "but you might want to steer clear of the bowl on the far side of the table. Gryffindor and Slytherin have established a truce for tonight in order to spike the punch." She smiled at Hermione's shock.

"Good evening, Hermione, Minerva," Dumbledore greeted them. He glanced around at the dancing couples. "I've just requested a waltz. Would you care to dance?" His clear blue eyes shown with hopefulness.

"Oh, look, there's Severus," Minerva said glibly. "I need to ask him something." Without another word, she turned around and left.

Hermione was embarrassed by the look of disappointment on the Headmaster's face. "Professor," she said softly, "I've been thinking about something, and I'd like to ask your opinion."

"Hmm?" the Headmaster responded absently. Then, he smiled at her. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he conceded. "I wasn't paying attention. Now, what is it, my dear?"

"I've been thinking about Draco," she began only to be interrupted.

Albus frowned. "Draco? What do you know about Draco?"

Nonplused, she continued. "He just looks so tired and jumpy lately. It's obvious that he's deeply worried about something, and I believe I know what it's all about."

Albus lay a finger against his lips. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation in private." Carefully, he steered the young witch away from the party and up the stairs into his office. When they were safely away from nosey ears and settled into comfortable chairs, he re-opened the discussion. "So, Hermione, what is it that concerns you?"

"I think Draco is worried about his mother," she said. "I had a conversation with Mrs. Malfoy this summer, and she told me that she doesn't support the Dark Lord, not really. Her husband and sister supported him. Her only concern is for Draco."

Frowning in concentration, Dumbledore nodded. "I see," he said slowly. "What would you suggest?"

Hermione, tucking her hair behind her ears, smiled at the fact that the Headmaster was taking her seriously. "I think you ought to create a new class, one for Muggleborn witches, and you should hire Narcissa Malfoy to teach it."

"I'm afraid, Hermione, that I fail to understand your point."

"Well," she began her explanation, "because of this Marriage Law, the Board created a new class that all Pureblood wizards must take, 'Running a Muggle Home,' and Minerva hired me to teach it. I think there should be a companion class for the girls. It's hard enough, coming from a Muggle background, to understand some of the things here in the Wizarding World that those of you who were raised here simply take for granted."

"Ah!" Dumbledore's blue eyes glittered with understanding. "A sort of 'Rules for Wizarding Society' class, yes, that could work. Hermione, this is a wonderful idea." He held out his hands. "It would be a class that all first year Muggleborns should take."

"Mrs. Malfoy would be the perfect instructor," Hermione said. "It would get her away from the Dark Lord and into Hogwarts where she can be protected, which, in turn, would help persuade Draco to join our side."

"I'm not sure it will work," Albus said slowly. "She may well wish to get out from under Tom's control, but she might consider working for money somewhat beneath her."

Hermione smiled sweetly. "Oh, but once you point out to her that by teaching this class she'll be able to look over all the Muggleborn girls and help Draco choose only the best for his bride, I think she'll agree."

Albus' mouth dropped open, and then he snapped it shut. "How very Slytherin of you," he said softly. "I'm quite impressed."

 **November**

"Thank you for coming to this spur of the moment meeting," Dumbledore told his staff. "As you know, I have hired Narcissa Malfoy."

"Whatever for?" Sirius Black asked bluntly

"It was brought to my attention that many of our Muggleborn students would greatly benefit from a 'Welcome to the Wizarding World' sort of class," Dumbledore explained, "especially those young ladies who now find themselves soon to be marrying into Pureblood society."

"That's a wonderful idea, Headmaster," Septima Vector Black said with a smile. She folded her hands across her pregnant belly.

"Yes," interjected Aurora Sinistra, "but how do we know we can trust her?"

"Don't you go worrying about the trustworthiness of our staff, Aurora," Pomona replied with a sweet smile. "I've personally checked her loyalty. She's is no follower of Tom Riddle. I can promise you that."

Hagrid frowned. "How'd ya do that?"

"Well," Flitwick explained, "Pomona and I invited Narcissa to tea a few days before she met with the Headmaster." His eyes twinkled. "Draco, it seems, is a dab hand with charms, and I wanted to discuss his continuing on in studying them at university."

"Oh, by the way," Pomona added in an off-hand manner. "Horace, could you brew me a few more bottles of Veritaserum?" Realizing that all eyes were focused on her, she batted her eyelashes outrageously at them all. "What?" she asked. "It's for my prickly persimmons."

"Of course, Professor Sprout," Severus replied. A Slytherin grin on his face made him appear quite charming. "We all know your word is above reproach, and you'd never misuse it, I'm sure."

The Headmaster cleared his throat and shuffled a stack of parchments. He took several minutes to re-settle the bundle. "I'm sorry. I must have missed that last," he stated blandly.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Draco dropped his book satchel, spilling its contents, at the doorway of Hermione's classroom. With a bit of muttered profanity, he squatted to pick up his things. "Go ahead," he called to his classmates, "I'll catch up with you." He waited until the corridor was empty to scoop up his belongings and step back into the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione questioned. She sat wearily at her desk.

Approaching her desk with an odd mixture of anger, relief, and suspicion evident on his face, Draco quietly demanded, "Do you know why Dumbledore offered my mother a teaching position here?"

Six months ago, Hermione would have blurted out the truth like any good Gryffindor. The time she had spent with Severus had taught her, though, that it is always best to merely hint at the truth when dealing with a Slytherin. She frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, searching her face. He nodded slowly. "She's told me that she has accepted the position," he said. "I think she finds the house a bit _confining_ since father is no longer there."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, slowly, carefully, "I'm sure she'll enjoy the opportunity of making _new_ friends."

"Perhaps," he said slowly. "New friends often change one's perspective on things, but I want to know why my mother's welfare concerns you?"

Hermione, never flinching, caught his grey eyes with a steely glare of her own whiskey brown ones. "From what I understand, your mother's _only_ loyalty in this coming war," she retorted quietly, "is you. Her heart, her energies, her hopes are only for you. Hogwarts, Headmaster Dumbledore, and the Light are more likely to save you - save you from the Dark Lord, from your father's evil legacy."

His eyes hardened. "Leave my father out of this," he growled. "I can make my own decisions." His eyes flickered up and down at her in obvious distaste.

"Draco," she told him neutrally, "I'm not disparaging your father. He made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone makes the wrong decisions sometimes." She leaned back in her chair. "Tell me, what would you give for your mother's safety? Because I know your mother would do anything for you."

Draco swallowed hard. He lowered his voice. "How do you know what my mother would do?"

Hermione smiled softly at Draco. He was, after all, just a boy - a boy with an incredible burden on his shoulders. "Oh, Draco," she replied gently, "she's a mother, and all mothers - all good mothers - would trade their very souls to keep their children safe."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Severus hated to admit it, but there was no denying it any longer, at least not to himself. He had grown attached to Hermione. Not that he'd ever let anyone know. Secretly, he smiled down at her monstrous hair sticking to his sweaty chest. Tendrils fluffed out around his nose causing him to sneeze explosively.

Hermione sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. "I'm sorry," she said with a smile as she tried to tame her wild tresses. "I can't seem to do anything with my hair. I suppose I could cut it." Leaning forward, she brushed the tip of his nose ever so lightly with her lips.

He caught both her hands and, by separating them, pulled her against him. "You'll do nothing of the sort," he responded curtly. Pressing her against him with his left arm, Severus toyed with her fluffed out hair with his right hand, rubbing the soft tresses between his fingers. "I'm sure that, given time, we will find a way to turn this horrendous mess into a formidable weapon to use against the Dark Lord."

Pursing her lips in an unconscious imitation of Minerva McGonagall, Hermione's snarky reply caused Severus to chuckle darkly. "Oh, yes, maybe we can destroy the Dark Lord in a great sneezing fit." At the sound of his laugh, she relented and laughed too.

"Severus," Hermione asked once her silly mood had passed, "what's wrong with Professor Dumbledore's hand? He seems to be getting weaker every day. We are all worried about him. Harry especially is -"

Abruptly he sat up, gently pushing her to the side. "The Headmaster is a fool," he barked angrily. Severus pulled his knees up, resting his head on his knees. His previous happy moment shattered like brittle glass.

Moving with the same care one would approach a wild and wounded animal, Hermione moved closer to him. She didn't dare touch him; he was wound so tightly at the moment she feared he might break. "Oh, I know he's a foolish man at times," she whispered with just a hint of humor. "If he'd had any sense, he would have admitted his love for Minerva years ago."

That caught his attention. Severus raised his head and narrowed his eyes at his wife. He let that comment pass. A long moment later, he heaved a sigh. "This is not to be shared outside our bed," he instructed her. "Dumbledore found, what he believed to be, a means of resurrecting the dead. At the height of stupidity, he thought he could wield the power to restore his long-dead and much beloved sister to life." He snorted. "Suffice it to say, it did not work."

Horror coiled in her breast and crawled across Hermione's features. "Recalling the dead is impossible," she muttered and shook her head in denial. "And even if it were possible, it should never be attempted." She began to shiver uncontrollably at the thought. "Frankenstein, 'The Monkey's Paw'," she continued talking aloud to herself. "It isn't possible. It isn't right."

Severus scooted towards her and wrapped his arms around her, breaking her terror fueled imaginings. She clung to him then, weeping against his shoulder. When she raised her face, he wiped away the tears. "I agree," he told her.

"Dumbledore should never have attempted it!" she cried. Then, understanding exploded in her mind. "He's going to die, isn't he?" she whispered.

He brushed back her hair from her wet face. "We all are going to die," he told her. "Don't blame the Headmaster, Hermione. He is only human, and he succumbed to his curiosity and grief." He lowered his voice before continuing. "Just think. If you had the power to bring your parents back, would you?"

That thought caught her unguarded and shock coursed through her. "I suppose I'd consider doing it," she admitted. "What about you, Severus?" she questioned softly. "Is there anyone you would wish to bring back from the dead if you could?"

His face went completely expressionless at her innocent question. In truth, he had no idea how to answer it. Would he wish Lily back if he could? How would that change anything for them? For him? For her? If Lily could return from the dead, what would that mean for his heart, which was finally, slowly, minutely, and incrementally mending? "No," he growled and turned away from her.


	15. Chapter 15

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Thank you, again, Selek, for the beta job. Thanks, too, to all my readers & reviewers.

Please review.

 **Chapter 15**

 **December the Day before Christmas Leave Taking**

"Professor Sprout?" Assistant Professor Granger called out. "I hate to interrupt you, but you are needed in the staff room. Septima Black has gone into labor, and you're needed to cover her last class." She closed her eyes briefly and leaned against the door of the greenhouse, pulling her robes a bit more tightly around herself.

"Oh, bother!" the older witch complained. She removed her metal mesh gloves. "Neville, would you be a dear and finish feeding that African strangler her zebra patties?" She handed him the gauntlets with a warning. "Do be careful with Thanatos, will you? I've raised her from a cutting my cousin Morticia gave me years ago, and she's nearly ready to produce seeds. And don't let her get a single vine around you; she isn't called a strangler vine for nothing, you know."

"Of course, Professor," the tall young man replied with a smile. "Hello, Professor Gran…" He stopped mid-sentence as he took a good look at her. "Goodness, Hermione, you're looking terrible! Are you all right?"

Professor Sprout took closer noticed the younger woman. "Hermione?" she asked softly, taking the girl by the shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Straightening up, the young witch stammered, "Professor Sprout! Yes, I'm just fine. I was, you see -" She turned a bit green and vomited into one of Sprout's prized prickly persimmons.

Pomona Sprout winced, cocked an eyebrow, and examined the young woman more closely. Red, watering eyes, pale face - the girl could be ill. Wild hair, but that was nothing unusual. Not that she was finding fault. Pomona smiled inwardly at her own untamed locks. But, there was something else about the girl, something that eluded the herbology teacher.

"I am so sorry," Hermione whispered. "I think I have the flu. I don't know what's wrong with -" Her words, even her thoughts, trailed off as she leaned over and threw up again until all that was left were dry, wracking heaves.

Professor Sprout put her arm around the young woman and guided her towards the door of the greenhouse. The child was running no fever. Then it hit her. Madame Snape was pregnant. Oh, well done, Severus! She ducked her head and smiled. "Here, why don't you let me help you? I'm sure Madame Pomfrey can diagnose the problem." Carefully, as she would with a skittish knealze kit, Pomona led her towards the hospital wing.

Closing her eyes, Hermione gave in and leaned against the motherly woman. "Okay," she murmured.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Oi, 'mione," Ron called out, "are you going to meet us tomorrow for apparition lessons?" He reached for a chocolate frog and stuffed it in his mouth.

"That's Professor Granger," Lavender reminded him as she smacked him playfully on the arm. "Don't eat that," she scolded him. "It'll ruin your appetite for supper."

"I'm starving, and supper isn't for another twenty minutes," complained Ron. He grinned at Lavender.

Harry frowned and took Hermione's elbow. "Hermione, I don't mean to be rude, but you're looking pretty rough. Sit down." He pressed her into a chair in the empty classroom they had commandeered for their own use.

"Professor Granger," Luna informed Harry from behind her kiwi-colored spectacles. She wedged herself between them to sit next to Hermione. "He's right about one thing," she said. "You look a bit green." Tilting her head and squeezing her eyes in a squint, Luna examined Hermione carefully. "You should try crackers," she said dreamily, producing a package. "They help with the nausea, you know."

Ginny frowned and sat on Hermione's other side. She stared first at Luna and then at Hermione. Her eyes widened in surprised understanding as they met Luna's. "Yeah," she agreed with a slow nod, "why don't you just rest a minute, Hermione?"

"So, what's up, Hermione?" Lavender asked. "Why did you ask us to meet you here?"

"Thanks, Luna," she said as she took the cracker. Hermione looked at each of her friends in turn, holding their gazes for a moment before moving on to the next. "I'm going to need your help," she told them. "And we need to make some quick decisions for the coming war."

"Whatever you need, 'mione," Ron offered gallantly, "just ask. We'll always be there for you, right guys?"

Hermione smiled. "It's almost Christmas, and I won't have much time after holidays to meet with you all. When the war comes, I won't be able to fight, but I can help in other ways."

Harry nodded. "That's what I've been thinking, too. You're best at research, Hermione, so you ought to stick with that." He grabbed Ginny's hand across the table

"I've already found some very useful spells," she announced. "Take a look at this." Hermione handed Ginny a beaded purse. "I've spelled this handbag,'' she explained, "to hold an unlimited amount of items. It has a nearly endless capacity, and it is weightless."

"That's wonderful," Lavender said, suddenly interested. "If you can show me the spell, I can make medical bags for Madame Pomfrey's Healer's Club. It's supposed to be a school club, but we all know that we're really just preparing for war."

"That's a great idea, Lavender," Hermione agreed.

"It should work wonders with a nappie bag," Luna mused airily.

Hermione glanced at Luna, and then she cleared her throat. "Now, this is how we are going to stay in touch." She set a small hand-held mirror on the table. "It works like a visual walkie-talkie. I have the mate."

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed. "Ginny, you keep the mirror in the bag. If we get caught, the mirror will seem like something natural for a girl to keep in her purse."

"Oi, you can't go with Harry and me when we leave," Ron ordered his sister.

"Stop me," Ginny replied in deadly earnestness.

Lavender grasped Ron's hand. "She'll be fine, and you'll be there to look after her," Lavender soothed him. "Besides, Ron, a big, strong man like you would look silly carrying a purse - no matter how pretty it is."

"There's one more thing," Hermione spoke up. She wet her lips. "I want to ask you all to promise me something. I need you all to promise that no matter what, you'll stand by me."

Harry frowned. "Are you in trouble, Hermione?"

She laughed, but there was a strange note in her laughter. "Not exactly, Harry. I just need to know that you will all love and support me unconditionally."

"Oh, Hermione," Lavender said, "you know we will. What's wrong?"

She sighed. "Let's just say, everyone should find out at supper tonight."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Hermione stood on the threshold of the teachers' entrance to the Great Hall. Not only was she late for supper, but she hadn't been able to find Severus to tell him the news. Another round of the mis-named morning sickness had hit right after she left her friends. Now, she had to tell Severus first before Dumbledore found out. Madame Pomfrey, whom she could see sitting next to the Headmaster, had promised not to inform the old man until after she had given her husband the news. Hermione had allowed her to assume she had gone to tell him when she left the hospital wing.

Squaring her shoulders, she wiped her mouth again, and walked into the room. As she passed by her accustomed place next to Charity Burbage, she noticed Madame Pomfrey leaning towards the Headmaster. A few steps more took her past Minerva while Poppy raised her hand to share the secret with the Headmaster.

Simultaneously, the Assistant Muggle Studies professor placed her hand on the Potions Master's shoulder and leaned forward to whisper the news in his ear. Severus, goblet halfway to his mouth, froze when he heard.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with the happy news, and he turned to his right in an attempt to catch Minerva's eye. She would be thrilled, he thought, to learn that her favorite cub and her brother were expecting, and he hoped that by being the first one to give her the news would again endear him to her. That's when he saw Hermione, hand on Severus' shoulder, sliding down into a chair between him and Minerva.

Severus brought the goblet to his mouth and drank deeply. While Hermione's news wasn't exactly unexpected, it was still shocking. Leaning forward slightly to set the glass back on the table, he saw Dumbledore looking at him. The old man was frowning, looking very confused and frighteningly thoughtful.

The Potions Master knew exactly what was about to hit the proverbial fan. This was it - his chance to drive the old man round the twist as Minerva put it. With any luck, he could use that same sharp stick to poke Potter in the eye. Leaning back against his chair with an air of supercilious pride, he smiled - a smile of Grinch-like proportions - directly at the Headmaster as he purposefully laid an arm along the back of Hermione's chair.

He angled his body to face the students, and he scanned them. Yes, there sat Mr. Potter next to Mr. Weasley. Both boys were frowning at him. They had a slight glimmering of the fact that something was off about the scene before them, but the idiots could not solve the puzzle.

Absently, he fingered Hermione's hair, bringing a double gasp from Misses Weasley and Brown. Ah, one could always count on the female sex, he thought, to be a tad faster. He gave the two young women a gracious nod and a toothy grin.

Minerva, just now hearing the news from Hermione, looked up to see the veins in Albus' neck begin to stick out. Jerking her head around, she saw Severus all but sprawled out with masculine arrogance grinning like a fool. Her first instinct was to frown, but she noted with delight the shock on Poppy Pomfrey's face. She also noted that her one-time friend was still hanging on Albus' arm. Pure vinegar shot threw her. Slowly, she raised her goblet and silently toasted Severus.

Understanding burst through his mind like a grenade, and the Headmaster shot to his feet. He'd been played for a fool; he could see that now, and he was very, very angry. "There will be an emergency meeting of the Heads of House in my office immediately," he announced. Then, he turned and with a swirl of his robes stormed from the Hall just as chaos erupted from the Gryffindor table.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Why didn't you tell me?" thundered Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. His office door had barely finished closing before he began his interrogation. He threw himself into the chair behind of desk, jerked open the bottom drawer, and snatched out a sheaf of papers. "Sit," he bellowed. Instantly, six ladder back chairs materialized in front of him.

"Tell you what?" countered the Deputy Headmistress coolly. Casually, she flicked her wand, transfiguring the first uncomfortable chair into a lovely soft, tartan covered wingback. She lowered herself into it with perfect serenity.

Filius and Pomona exchanged looks. Pomona shrugged, and Filius transfigured two other chairs - a pair of chairs farther from the 'action' - into a love seat. The pair settled in quietly, hoping for a front row seat while staying out of it.

"Don't play coy with me, Minerva," growled the Headmaster. "You know very well what I mean! Why was I not informed that Severus had, had, had -" He paused, not knowing exactly how to say what he feared.

Severus, having transfigured another chair into a softly cushioned armchair, settled Hermione down next to Minerva. "Please cease your bellowing," he calmly requested. "Not only is it most unhelpful, but it is also upsetting the mother of my child."

"Mother!" Albus was apoplectic, nearly frothing at the mouth. "You admit it, then, do you? You molested that child! Severus, how could you? I put you in a position of trust and authority, and you, you -"

"Albus, please stop shouting," Poppy gently suggested. She sat down in one of the straight back chairs. "Remember your blood pressure."

Placidly, Severus raised his eyebrows in mock perplexity. He turned to Flitwick. "I wasn't aware it was possible for a man to molest his wife. What do you think, Filius? You've been married far longer than I." He moved behind Hermione's chair and rested his hands possessively on her shoulders.

"Wife?" Albus barked hoarsely. "Your wife?" Again, he bent his piercing blue eyes on McGonagall; they were a sharp contrast to his furious, red face. "You told me that the girl was marrying your brother Robbie!"

"I most certainly told you no such thing," Minerva retorted heatedly. "I told you that my brother Robbie would take care of the matter." She crossed her arms angrily over the chest. "What you chose to infer from that is your own problem. Besides, you told me to do _whatever_ it takes to keep the girl safe."

That stopped the old man cold. Audibly grinding his teeth, he closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then, he counted to twenty. He inhaled deeply, held the breath for a moment, then let it out slowly. "All right," he grumbled. "If they are legally married, then maybe we can dance around the issue so that I won't have to sack the lot of you."

"I am so tired of being talked about as if I weren't here," shrieked Hermione. She'd reached her limit and stood up, albeit somewhat wobbly-legged. "I am not a girl, so stop calling me one," she complained to Dumbledore. "I am a grown woman, a certified professor of Muggle Studies and an apprentice in Transfiguration. Severus never touched me until we were legally wed both by Muggle and Wizarding authorities, and then he waited until after my seventeenth birthday as well." She began to cry. "You can't fire him because he acted in accordance with that damnable Marriage Law. He's been noble and gentle and kind to me. You're being really mean, and, and, and -" She hesitated a moment. "And I think I'm going to be sick again."

Poppy bolted up from her chair and raced to her. She grabbed Hermione by the arm and pulled her into Albus' private quarters towards the facilities.

"Well, I hope you're happy," Minerva snapped. "You've distressed an expectant mother."

"Now, Minerva, I've had just about enough of -"

"Oh, but you really should stop yelling," she replied sweetly. "Don't you remember what your burd said about your blood pressure?"

Dumbledore's face was a blank of confusion. "Fawkes?" He looked over at the phoenix's empty perch. "What the bloody hell does Fawkes have to do with my blood pressure?"

"Now, now," Pomona piped up. "Minerva, stop smiling like that, and let's formulate a plan before parents begin sending howlers."

"Yes, Minerva," drawled Severus, "you look like the proverbial cat that ate the canary."

Filius broke into a fit of coughing to cover his laughter. "Right, well, I see no reason for concern," he told them. "Severus, by complying with the law, saved one of our most promising students from a 'fate worse than death'." The tiny wizard shrugged. "There's no need to explain anything. In fact, we should hail him as a hero."


	16. Chapter 16

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many thanks to SELEK - the best beta around. Thanks to my reviewers; you guys make me smile every day.

Please review.

 **Chapter 16**

 **Christmas Eve**

"Hermione," Severus said softly. He cradled her against his chest. His large hands clasped around her barely rounded belly.

She smiled into the flickering fire as his deep, rumbling words vibrated her head. "Mmm, yes?"

"Now, more than ever, it is imperative that you listen," he told her urgently and was rewarded when she sat up, suddenly sobered by his serious turn. He cleared his throat, a frown of distaste on his lips. "I need to explain to you. This coming new year will be most unpleasantly eventful, and I do not wish you to be more unduly stressed than you already must be."

He dipped his head forward, his long hair shadowing his face. "Within the confines of the part that I am cast to play, I will have to appear to take a great disinterest in you, to seem completely indifferent to you. I may even be deliberately hurtful."

She knew that trick by now. Whenever he wanted to hide his thoughts or feelings from the world, he'd lean forward and allow his hair to cover his eyes. She frowned at his words and actions. "You won't really mean the things you do and say, though."

"I will appear to do so," he corrected. "I must maintain my facade."

"Oh," she murmured softly as understanding came to her. "A real Death Eater would merely have used me. Now that I'm pregnant, you'll have to act as if I'm no longer of use."

"There are…other things…which I will have to do as well," he hedged. "You'll not like any of them, and they will hurt you dreadfully." He shifted on the sofa, unhappy with these truths. "I will understand if through these trying times you lose faith in me."

Hermione smiled sadly. "No, Severus, no matter what, I'll not lose faith." Then, she pressed her lips to his.

 **January 1997**

Harry was nearly frothing at the mouth. "Why didn't you tell us, Hermione?" he demanded.

Ron and Lavender stood silent and accusing.

"Will you be calling yourself Professor Snape?" Luna asked. "It will be quite confusing, I think. Perhaps it would be best to keep calling yourself Professor Granger."

Ginny entered the room like Molly incarnate, and she smacked both boys on the back of the head as she marched over to stand beside Hermione. "Enough, both of you," she yelled. "You're acting like she betrayed you! Haven't either of you been paying attention to the news? Hermione is a Muggleborn. She had no choice in the matter."

"But Snape did," Harry asserted angrily. "Snape deliberately chose Hermione."

"You think," Ron gulped and asked Lavender, "you think he's been perving after her all this time?"

"Eww!" Lavender squealed. She smacked Ron on the chest and stepped to Hermione's other side. "No, I do not, Ron. What a disgusting thought!"

Harry took several deep breaths to regain his focus like Dumbledore had taught him. He also took the moment to allow the sting to pass out of Ginny's slap. When he had mastered himself, he asked with quiet simplicity, "So why did you marry Snape?"

Hermione was a blubbering mess. She was hurt, angry, embarrassed, prideful, and hormonal. "I don't have to answer to you, Harry Potter," she began in a haughty tone. "Or to you, Ron." She felt the tears welling up in her eyes. "This Marriage Law required that I marry and produce a child. I took the best option available, and I will not apologize for it."

Ron shot a look at Harry and shrugged. "Yeah, well, I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just a giant shock is all." He stepped towards her and took her hands. "Old Snape'd better treat you right, or I'll have something to say about it, yeah?"

Harry nodded and joined the group. "You know I don't like him," he grumbled.

"Well, he doesn't like you either," she shot back.

When Harry laughed, it broke the tension. "Okay, Hermione, I'll try not to put you in the middle, all right?"

Sobbing, Hermione returned. "Good, because the war is coming, Harry, and we're going to need each other more than ever."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Albus," Poppy said with a sigh as she plopped down in the chair across from his desk, "I've hidden the manikin in the astronomy tower as you asked."

"Thank you, Poppy, dear," Dumbledore replied. He peered at her over the rim of his half-moon spectacles and frowned. "Poppy, is something the matter? You're not looking well."

She waved off his concerns with a casual gesture and dropped her hand on the arm of the chair. She sighed again. "To tell the truth, I'm more than a bit hurt at the way Minerva has been treating me."

He nodded knowingly. "I understand." He stroked his beard and sat a while in thought. "She's angry at the both of us. She thinks we're romantically involved, and she's hurt that we didn't tell her first. She's been such a close friend of ours for years that I -"

Poppy snorted rudely. "She's jealous!" she exclaimed.

"What?" The Headmaster's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you sure? Do you think she truly cares for me that way?"

"Albus Dumbledore, how can you be so ignorant?" Poppy berated him. "Of course, Minerva loves you, you great dolt! Why do you think she's giving us both the cold shoulder? She thinks you're in love with me, and she wishes it were with her."

"But I am -" He stopped suddenly, blushing. "Forgive me, Poppy, I've said too much. It isn't fitting that I -"

Wearily Poppy Pomfrey hauled herself to her feet. "Albus Dumbledore," she interrupted him again, "I can assure you that Minerva is deeply in love with you. She has been for many years, and she's been waiting for you to make the first move. You, on the other hand, have been stringing her along -"

"I have not been stringing her along!" he retorted. His blue eyes blazed with anger. "I would never treat any woman that way, especially not Minerva."

Poppy waved away his words impatiently, but her voice was soft when she told him, "Oh, Albus, I know that you'd never deliberately hurt her, but in a way you are. You treat her with far more affection than a mere friend or co-worker, and all these years she's had her hopes pinned on you. And you've kept her at arms' length, afraid to say what's in your heart." She walked to the door and opened it, but before she left, she turned back for one parting word of advice. "If you don't do something soon, you'll lose her forever."

 **February 1996**

She was waiting for him when he entered his office, sitting in his chair, behind his desk.

Severus frowned as he shut the door. "How did you get in here?" he demanded brusquely.

Narcissa smiled thinly. "You think I can't figure out the password to take down your wards?" She tapped a perfectly manicured nail on his desk blotter, and with a lazy flick of her wand locked him inside his own office. "Have you forgotten, Sevvie, whose shoulder it was you cried on when a certain red haired Muggleborn broke your heart?"

All pretense of politeness fell away. His eyes grew flat and black like a shark's. Two steps took him nearer the desk. Easing into a chair facing her, he donned his best poker face and waited.

Suddenly and too late, it occurred to Narcissa that this one-time school mate of hers was a seasoned Death Eater, one of Voldemort's Inner Circle. She glanced down at her hands to hide her rising fear, thinking that perhaps her planned unauthorized entrance into his office was poorly conceived.

Her Slytherin nature screamed at her to make amends, and quickly, with one of the Dark Lord's dangerous elite. But, then, her maternal protectiveness surged forward. What wouldn't she risk for her darling boy? It didn't take a Gryffindor's courage to stand up to a cold-blooded killer; it only took fierce determination.

Squaring her shoulders, Narcissa smiled and looked the Potion's Master square in the eye. "Draco," she responded simply. "I'm here about my son." She tilted her head down. "You said you would help him."

"I did," he conceded with a cool nod, "and I will."

"Severus," she spoke bluntly, her Slytherin circumspection overwhelmed by her maternal instinct, "which side are you on in this game?"

He leaned back in his chair. "This is no game, Narcissa. This is war, and lives are at stake."

Her eyes glittered dangerously. She was no Death Eater, but there was nothing she wouldn't do for Draco. "Precisely," she agreed in clipped tones, "I'll not risk Draco's life."

"His life is already forfeit!" Severus hissed as he leaned forward. "Your husband insured it when he failed the Dark Lord." His angry words fell on her like hot coals, burning her. "The Dark Lord intended to punish Lucius. That's why Draco was given this impossible task. If Draco fails to kill the Headmaster, he will be punished, and if he succeeds, it will damage the boy's soul."

Tears welled up in her careworn yet still lovely blue eyes, and they ran down her perfect face. "I know this already, Severus," she whispered. "Which is why I ask again: which side are you truly on? I do not care whether you follow Dumbledore or the Dark Lord, Severus, truly I do not. My only concern is as it has always been - Draco."

Folding his hands together, Severus rested them in his lap. "I said I would protect the boy, Narcissa," he replied softly. "Aren't you even now in a newly created position at Hogwarts? A place where you can watch over your boy? A place where he can be assured of your safety as well?"

"I thought that was Hermione's idea." She paused then and sighed as the truth struck her. "Of course, your wife's idea, yes, I can see you now behind that." She paused longer this time. "I thank you, Severus."

Again, he nodded. "Stay loyal in your devotion to your son, Narcissa, and you will both come out on the winning side." He stood, a clear indication that he wished to end their _tete-a-tete._

Narcissa dabbed gently at her face, removing the evidence of her tears, as she moved around from behind the desk. "There can be no doubt that I will," she answered him. "And, Severus," she added, "if you can pull this off, if you can pull Draco through this no-win situation, I will swear an Unbreakable Vow to protect your son as well." She paused, looking him square in the eye. "Because of the razor's edge you walk, any child of yours will be hounded and despised by both sides in this conflict. He will need someone to look after his interests." Without another word, Narcissa Black Malfoy left.

 **March**

It had taken many months, but Ron Weasley's and Theo Nott's uncertain truce had changed into a grudging respect and friendship. Out of deference to his Slytherin classmate and Hermione, Ron decided to swallow some of his own Gryffindor pride and offer his congratulations to Professor Snape. When the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher came roaring into the classroom as usual, Ron nearly lost his confidence but Theo stood up and Ron joined him.

"Ron," Harry said in near panic, "what are you doing? Sit down!" He tried to pull his friend back into his seat.

"Professor Snape," Ron called out politely. He reached blindly behind him to slap at Harry.

Slowly, Severus Snape turned to behold the sight of Ronald Weasley and Theodore Nott standing nearly side by side. His black eyes scanned back and forth between the young men. If Slytherin and Gryffindor were showing the slightest chance of joining ranks, it would be in the best interest of the Light to foster that. He'd have to be very careful. "Yes?" he drawled slowly.

Ron swallowed hard and cast a quick look again at, Theo, his new comrade in arms. "Me and Theo-" he began.

"Ronald and I," Nott corrected.

The tips of Weasley's ears went red, but he forged ahead. "Yeah, Theo and I," he said, "oh, and all the rest of us," he waved his arms around the room, "would like to congratulate you on your upcoming fatherhood."

Another scan of his classroom, showed him that, indeed, all of the students both Slytherin and Gryffindor were sincerely in agreement. Now was the time to force them together against a common enemy - him.

Allowing nothing but contempt to show on his face, he sneered at Weasley and flicked a look of disdain at Nott for good measure. He took a deep breath and held it for a fraction of a second. "Well, when a slut spreads her legs, sooner or later she will find herself up the duff." He deliberately turned his back and stilled himself waiting for the explosion.

He didn't wait long. Within seconds his classroom was seething with rage and chaos. Wheeling around, his black robes swinging out from his body, Severus slammed his hands on this desk. "Silence!" he roared. "Take your seats!" For the first time in fifteen years, the entire length of his teaching career, his class refused to obey.

Weasley was standing in stunned silence, his face apoplectic with purple rage. Potter and the rest of the male population of Gryffindor were standing with clenched fists, still loudly and angrily shouting. Even Longbottom had forgotten his fear of Professor Snape and stood with the rest, his balled up fists jammed down hard at his side.

Theo Nott stood quivering in anger. In fact, all of the young men of Slytherin House had bolted to their feet. Pureblood standards of acceptable behavior insisted that while it was acceptable to disparage the character of a female who was free and easy with her charms, such comments were never to be made in public and certainly not within mixed company. Worse, Snape had dared to vilify his own wife! With this single statement their Head of House had severely crossed the lines of polite conduct, and the upper class gentlemen stood firm against him. They knew better than to assault any woman's good character in public; Snape himself had taught them this!

 _Good_ , thought Snape as he looked around at the young men. He had united them against him. Perhaps this unification can sway some of those who were undecided in the direction of the Light. As he continued to scan his classroom of livid youths, he noticed even Draco stood beside his classmates. The boy's face was flushed with anger, too, but a look of cold speculation showed as well.

"I said _sit down_." The whispered words were terrifying, and the boys, with bloody rebellion in their eyes, reluctantly sat down.

When control was finally restored, the Defense professor finally took note of the young ladies of his class. It was then that he became alarmed. The girls, every single one, sat stony faced in quiet fury. From the furious, red face of Lavender Brown to the cold, hate-filled expression of Pansy Parkinson, the girls were now a silent, deadly force to be reckoned with.

"Now," he continued blandly, "get out your books and turn to page 667."


	17. Chapter 17

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Selek is the best beta ever~

And a HUGE thank you to all my reviewers and new-found friends.

Please review.

 **Chapter 17**

The moment Severus stepped into the Great Hall for dinner that night, utter silence reigned. Even the sound of cutlery ceased. Every eye, gleaming with fury, followed his casual stride. No one, save Hermione, acknowledged him. She graced him with a watery smile and tremulous nod. Gravely, he returned her nod and settled into his own chair between Minerva and Albus.

Albus stared at him in disgusted disbelief. The old wizard, so formal and courteous towards women, had heard what his Defense teacher had dared say about his own wife, he was ready to horsewhip Severus. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the fact that legally he could not.

Minerva, on the other hand, felt little concern for the legalities of the matter. Her Scottish blood was boiling.

Even the House Elves had apparently declared war on Snape. When he sat down, neither a plate full of food nor a goblet of drink magically appeared. "My dinner, if you please," he said in a bored voice.

Sosty, Minerva's House Elf, was waiting for just this opportunity. With a sullen surprise, she appeared in front of Snape and dropped his plate on the table in front of him. A resounding clatter echoed down the hall as his steak and chips dropped, splashing his robes with gravy.

"Why, you!" Severus sputtered angrily as he half-rose to brush off the hot gravy.

"You'll need a knife for your steak," Minerva growled. She raised a steak knife high in the air, and in a sudden flashing arc, the witch brought the blade down into the middle of his steak with such force that it cut into the very plate!

That brought Dumbledore to his feet. Laying his arm across Severus' shoulders, the Headmaster half-pulled and half-led the professor away.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Minerva McGonagall! What _were_ you thinking?" demanded Pomona. She grabbed Minerva by the arm and pulled her down on the sofa in the staff room. Her friend was so angry, she could feel the heat rising from her skin.

"The same thing I was thinking!" complained Sirius. "Surely, you heard what Snivellus said about Hermione!" He stormed past the two women, pacing angrily.

Remus followed his co-workers into the staff room. It had been one hell of a tense dinner in the Great Hall, and from all appearances, things were bound to get ugly tonight. "Sirius," Remus said sternly as he grabbed his friend's arm, "you promised Septima that you'd be home early tonight."

Sirius stopped pacing and smiled gently. "Hyacinth will be three months old tomorrow," he added in a softer tone. Heaving a sigh to release his anger, Sirius smiled at Remus. "All right, Remus, I'll go, but let me know if you want me to help you catch the greasy git and beat the -"

Lupin shook his head and interrupted his friend. "No, Sirius, we're not resorting to violence unless -"

"There is no unless," stated Narcissa decisively. Until tonight, she had simply kept her mouth firmly closed when in the company of her co-workers. Although she felt no loyalty to the Dark Lord or his cause, she would not commit herself to either side aloud until she knew where all of the others stood. "The Marauders," she said the word crisply, acidly, "have shown more than enough violence towards Severus."

"Now, see here, Cousin!" shouted Sirius.

"No," she answered back coldly. "Did it ever occur to you that part of the reason why Severus is so brusque and hateful at times is because of the way the four of you treated him?"

Sirius Black's face turned red with anger, but Remus' darkened with shame. "Maybe we've all missed something here," Remus said. "Surely, there has to be more to this story than we've heard. I keep hoping that the students simply must have misheard."

"No, Weasley and Potter might be tempted to exaggerate a case against Severus," McGonagall interjected, "but I got the same story from Pansy Parkinson, of all people! And, when I catch Severus alone, he'll wish that -"

"Drink this," Flitwick ordered as he shoved a goblet into her hands. "It's a calming potion. Once Dumbledore is finished with Severus, we can have a little word with him, but for now you need to relax."

"He must have lost his mind," added Pomona. "With one small sentence, Snape has managed to infuriate all of Gryffindor and Slytherin House." She nodded towards Filius. "I wouldn't be surprised if by morning all four of Hogwarts Houses were united against him."

"Oh, Severus!" Horace Slughorn crowed gleefully. "Well done, boy, well done!" He clapped his hands together, applauding his former student. This announcement left the others totally gobsmacked. With mouths hanging open, they simply all stared at the former Head of Slytherin House.

"Care to explain?" Minerva said slowly and coldly.

Slughorn smiled at her. "Oh, Minerva," he chided. "Tell me, what was the primary reason Severus married the girl?"

"To protect her," she snapped back, "not to belittle her, disrespect her, or trample her feelings in public."

Slughorn nodded. "Yes, and what better way to make sure his beloved wife and heir are safe than to unite the entire school on her side? Now, no matter which side wins in the coming conflict, she'll be the subject of sympathy and viewed with deep feelings of protectiveness by all."

Lupin frowned. "Damn that sneaky bastard," he muttered. "It will work, too."

Sirius looked mutinous. "I'm sorry, Narcissa," he sighed. "And, yeah, I guess you're right about the way we treated him."

Filius' eyes were wide in admiration. "If the whole school is united against a common foe, we might be able to use that to our advantage as well." The small man began to walk circles around the staff table as he thought aloud. "Yes, it just may work!" he cried. "This could be just the ticket we need to win the war!"

"Maybe," Minerva admitted grudgingly, "but I don't like his methods, not one little bit!"

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

With what was truly great restraint, Dumbledore led Severus to his office and nodded to a chair. He knew that the old man's hands were itching to smack him. Luckily, patience was the old man's strong point.

Severus sat, lips clamped shut. He knew that he could out-stubborn the old man, but he also knew it would do no good tonight. "Yes, I really did say that."

Dumbledore grunted. "Why?"

"To finish the job you started," he snapped. When Albus frowned in obvious confusion, Severus elaborated. "To make me the most hated man in the Wizarding World," he drawled arrogantly. "Murdering you will only make those of the Light hate me. By denigrating my wife, I'll be equally hated by those supporting the Dark Lord as well."

"Severus, that will leave you no quarter at all," the old man said sadly. "Did you know that every single individual in the school hates you now? With the possible exception of myself and your wife, that is."

"I'm sure she'll hate me too," he muttered. "At least everyone is now united together against me and for her."

The light of understanding dawned in the Headmaster's eyes. "You done this on purpose, haven't you? To draw sympathy from everyone for Hermione, for your child, haven't you? You've done this to protect them!"

Severus stared at Albus Dumbledore with a blank face, unwilling to give away all of his secrets but knowing the old man would, indeed, find them out. "Maybe," he muttered.

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled and a single tear ran down his withered cheek. "Sweet Merlin, Severus," he whispered, "you've fallen in love with the girl, haven't you?"

"Yes."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"But why in Merlin's name did you have to say that?" demanded Hermione. Tears of hurt and anger flooded her eyes. "Oh, Severus!" It was too much, and she broke down and sobbed.

A heavy sigh escaped him. He knew he would be hurting her, and it pained him to do so. Pulling her to him, he sat down on the sofa and cuddled her. "Hermione, I am so sorry," he whispered as he rocked her back and forth. "I warned you."

She sniffed and wiped at her face. "I know you did, Severus, and I thought I was prepared for anything, but -"

"Shhh," he crooned. "I know, I know. It was cruel and heartless, and planned to make everyone hate me."

"But why?"

He snorted a humorless laugh. "Think, Hermione. If everyone is united in compassion for you, they will go out of their way to see you protected. Come what may, whoever may win this war, you and our baby will be safe." He ran a loving hand over her rounded belly. "I've managed with one well-spoken line to unify every single student and faculty member for you and against me." Again the humorless laugh came forth. "And from what I've ascertained, quite a bit of the Wizarding world is in agreement. Even most of my fellow Death Eaters think I deserve a sound beating."

"I don't want you to get a beating," she sniffed.

"I'm not particularly thrilled with the idea myself," he replied acerbically. "I do promise you, Hermione, that as soon as this conflict is over, no matter what the outcome, I will issue you and our child a public apology and an explanation for my actions."

 **June**

Albus shifted nervously in this chair and stared at his office door. He had called Minerva to his office on the pretext of completing some administrative work, but he really intended to settle things between them.

Punctual as always, Minerva McGonagall entered the Headmaster's office with a list of this year's graduating students and those who were earning honors. She carefully closed the door behind her and crossed the room. Without a word to Albus, she cleared a space on his desk in front of her accustomed chair and spread out her parchments. Next, she laid out her favorite quills and inks. Then, she folded her hands atop the paperwork and gazed directly into his eyes.

"Where would you like to begin?" she asked.

Albus smiled pleasantly. At least she wasn't still freezing him out. It was a start. "I think we can start with those graduating," he said.

It took them a little over an hour to organize and set plans for Hogwarts' seventh years. Advisement schedules were created, notifications to potential graduates and their families were written, and the date was set.

"I think Sirius would be a good choice to help Filius with decorations this year," Minerva suggested as she wrote in Black's name. "And Narcissa would be perfect to help Horace plan the graduate's reception."

"Excellent choices," he agreed. "Filius can keep Sirius out of trouble, but you should add Aurora and Poppy to the decorations list."

"All right," she said. Her fingers tightened on the quill at the sound of Poppy's name.

"And, I think you're spot on with Narcissa. She has exquisite taste. Perhaps you should add Rubeus to the reception committee. He's always eager to help."

"Done," she agreed. "I think Remus, Pomona, Severus and I should be the ones to send off the younger years. You know how rowdy they can get at the end of the school year."

"I certainly do," he agreed with a shake of his head. "I certainly do. Now, that leaves Filch, Charity, and myself to welcome our Muggle parents and help them settle into their rooms." It was common practice for the immediate families of Muggleborn and half-blood students to stay a couple of days at Hogwarts when their children were graduating. "I don't want to strain Hermione while she is in the family way."

"Oh, Albus, you are so old-fashioned. There's absolutely no need to sequester the poor girl," Minerva laughed. "I think it would be best for Hermione to stay here and help you and Filch welcome parents. Charity has volunteered to mail out the congratulatory letters to upcoming first year Muggleborn students."

Dumbledore smile wistfully. "Yes, I am rather old-fashioned, Minerva, and it has caused me to be most indecisive when it comes to matters of the heart." He held her gaze steadily. "I cannot say how much I regret not speaking up years ago. My only excuse is that I thought it ungentlemanly to be so forward in addressing a lady, and I've allowed far too many years of potential happiness to slip away."

Minerva felt herself blush. She sat awhile in silence, unable to express her thoughts, unable even to identify them. Finally, clearing her throat, she said. "Yes, well, Charity thought it would be best not to wait until a child's eleventh birthday this year. She thinks, given the tense political climate, that we should notify Muggle parents in June, explain the volatile situation in the Magical world, and give them the extra time to determine what would be best for their child."

"Minerva," he reached across the space between them and captured her hands. "Minerva," he whispered, "Charity is right about the need to use time wisely. I wish I had used mine so." He smiled tenderly at her. "Time isn't my friend at the moment, I'm afraid, but I will lose no more of it. I love you, Minerva. I have done for the past forty years. I am the biggest fool in the world, and I can only hope that you'll forgive me."

Speechless. Flabbergasted. Minerva sat in shocked silence. It was as if she'd been hit with a stunner to the chest. For a moment she forgot to breathe. Her world narrowed to his twinkling blue eyes. Then she shook her head, trying desperately to clear it. "But Poppy - I thought - you kissed - " Nothing was making sense.

His smile wavered, and his vision swam with unshed tears. "Oh, Min," he sighed. He held up his blackened hand. "I kissed her because Poppy had found a way to save my life."

Minerva swallowed hard. It was obvious to her, at least, that Poppy had been unsuccessful. Her beloved Albus was going to die. How much longer did he have? And how much time had she wasted in not speaking to him. "Tell me."

Withdrawing his hands, Albus reached into his desk drawer and set a broken ring before her. A small black stone tumbled out. "I found a ring that had once belonged to Tom Riddle," he explained. "It was just as we feared. He created a horcrux, several in fact. This ring was one of them, and secreted inside it I found the Resurrection Stone."

"There's no such thing," she protested. "It's only a myth." Still, she eyed the items with amazement.

He raised an eyebrow. "Is it?" he questioned. "Harry has the Cloak of Invisibility, and -"

"And, I suppose you have the Elder wand?" she scoffed.

Without a word, he simply placed his own wand on the desk top.

She held her breath and stared at him in astonishment. "Albus," she released her breath, "then you don't have to die. Don't you see? With the cloak, and I'm sure Harry will give it to you, you can be the Master of Death."

"Sweet Minerva," he answered sadly, "you're thinking with your heart and not your head. That's how I came to be in this distressing situation myself. I put on the ring, hoping to bring back someone, and…"

"Ariana," she whispered.

He nodded; the words were stuck in his throat.

"And the ring, the horcrux, it exploded on you, didn't it?" She was up and around the desk before he could swallow the tears. "Oh, you poor, darling fool," she whispered as she drew him in an embrace.

For Albus, to be held in her arms felt like coming home. All too soon, she released him, and he quickly stood, reversing their places. Once she was seated in the Headmaster's grand chair, he lowered himself, joints creaking in protest, onto his knees. "Minerva Isobel McGonagall," he intoned solemnly, "will you do me the honor of being my wife?"


	18. Chapter 18

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Thanks again to Selek the Mighty. Thank you to all my reviewers.

Please review.

 **Chapter 18**

 **June 30, 1997**

"Death Eaters in the castle!" The ancient stone walls reverberated with the cry. Students, hurried along by frightened prefects, rushed to their dormitories. The staff room exploded with shouts from the teachers, bounding to their feet as they rushed to defend their charges. Dumbledore was nowhere to be found. No one thought to look to the astronomy tower, no one except Poppy and Severus.

Poppy hiked up her skirts and ran pell-mell after her colleagues. She veered off at the turn to the hospital wing and rushed to grab the bag that she had kept in readiness ever since the day she and Albus had concocted their plan. "Fawkes!" she called. The phoenix appeared suddenly and perched on the end of her desk. "All right, Fawkes," she instructed him, "tonight's the night. You'll need to get to the astronomy tower pronto. Help Albus switch out with the manikin we created for him and bring him back here. Hurry!"

The Headmaster's familiar disappeared in a bright flash of flame.

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Severus bowed his head in disconsolation, but only for a moment. _It's come_ _at last_ , he thought painfully. _Sweet Circe save me!_ He raised his head and grabbed Narcissa and Hermione by the arm. He gripped them so tightly, they were sure to have bruises. "Narcissa," he growled. "I promised to save Draco, and now I'm calling in the debt you owe me. Take Hermione to our rooms and keep her safe." He didn't wait for his former school mate to nod her agreement. "Hermione, you will go with Narcissa. Consider it a husbandly order which you are to obey without question!" Roughly, he shoved the two women together and bolted from the room.

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Poppy rushed to Dumbledore's "body" as fast as she could. Chest heaving, she knelt and instinctively felt for a pulse. None - a moment of wild panic set in before she realized that it was just the dummy that she and Albus had prepared months ago. She swallowed hard as tears of relief swam in her eyes. _Okay_ , she thought, _time to begin my show._ Just as she closed the mannequin's eyes, Minerva, long legs pumping, came flying across the lawn.

Although not yet 62 years old, the Transfiguration professor outran her students and slammed to a sudden stop. An inhuman cry somewhere between the wailing keen of despair and the roaring growl of revenge escaped her lips. Her wild green eyes took in the scene before her, and her knees buckled.

Remus Lupin caught her. "Not now, Minerva, not now," he urged. Shoving her forward, towards Pomona Sprout, he took to his heels in pursuit of Sirius and Harry. Neither of them had any sense when their tempers were riled, and both of them were likely to get killed in their headlong flight towards revenge.

Pomona shook her friend, hard. "Snap out of it, Min!" she shouted. "We need you!"

Minerva blinked and wavered but a minute more, then she stood strong on her own feet. Eyes like brittle emeralds, she slowly raised her wand and shot a stream of pure energy at the morsmordre. One by one everyone there regardless of age or house affiliation added his wand to hers. And, slowly the terrible symbol of Voldemort, wavered and vanished.

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"What's happening?" Narcissa asked frantically. She wrung her smooth, white hands nervously. As Severus had instructed her, she had taken Hermione to their home in the dungeon and warded them inside. She had sent Hermione to rest in bed, and now she was pacing the length of the Snape's sitting room, desperate for any news. Her heels clicked in time with her pacing steps like a drunken clock.

"Narcissa!" Hermione cried out from the bedroom.

"Hermione," the older witch called out, "is something wrong?"

"Yes," came the near frantic reply, "my water just broke!"

Narcissa dashed into the bedroom to find Mrs. Snape sitting up in a wet puddle. She inhaled deeply, held the breath, and released it slowly. "All right," she said calmly, "there's no need to be alarmed. Witches have babies all the time."

"What do I do?" Hermione asked with panic-laced tones. "I mean, I've read about labor, but- Oh!" A wild look glinted in her eyes as the pain hit her. "Narcissa?"

Forcing a reassuring smile on her lips, Narcissa helped the young woman to her feet. "It's all right, Hermione. Let's get you out of these clothes and into a birthing gown. What's your elf's name? Grazey?" She called aloud, "Grazey, come at once."

"Grazey is always here to help." The little elf's wide eyes took on huge proportions. "Oh, Missy 'mione!" she cried joyfully. "You's in labor! The House of Snape is increasing!"

A snort of exasperation escaped Narcissa. "It will if you help," she stated tartly. "Now, go get Madame Pomfrey while I get Madame Snape into a birthing gown."

Mere moments later, Grazey popped back to Narcissa's side. The young elf looked positively green. "Madame Pomfrey cannot come," she whispered to Professor Malfoy.

Narcissa showed only the slightest flinch as she held onto her charge. "Keep walking, Hermione," she instructed. "Round and round the room. Let me see what's wrong with this elf."

Exiting the room gracefully and quietly shutting the door behind her, Narcissa snatched up the small creature and shook her until her long ears flapped. "What do you mean Madame Pomfrey can't come?" she demanded.

"Dumblydore is dead," the elf whispered. "Master of Potions killed him, and the Death Eaters runned away."

"And Draco?" she asked with eyes white with fear. "What of my son?"

"He went with them."

She released the elf and pressed her hand to her breast. Severus had kept his word. He'd put himself at risk with the Order and the Dark Lord in order to save Draco. _Poor Severus would pay dearly for this night's work_. A sudden scream of agony jerked her from her thoughts.

Seizing Grazey's scrawny arms, Narcissa jerked the creature towards her. "Now, Grazey, you listen and you listen well. You will find someone, a member of staff, a Healer from St. Mungos, another House Elf - I care not - but find someone quickly who has delivered a baby before. Hermione should not be in labor for another month, she is in great pain, and it is happening far too quickly. I am out of my element here." She released the elf, kicked off her heels, and returned to Hermione's side.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Dumbledore was breathless with excitement. "Poppy, you're brilliant, simply brilliant! Your plan worked like a charm!"

She sighed. "Yes, it did, but we still must deal with the aftermath. Severus has not only been forced to run with the Death Eaters, but he's also no doubt swimming in guilt! And then there's poor Minerva to think of!"

"Hmmm, yes," he muttered, suddenly sobered by her words. "All right, just as we planned, I'll stay hidden here in the hospital wing until Minerva seeks to replace her missing staff. I'll send in an application for the Transfiguration position, and you must see that she hires me. Then, using the hair from that locket she wears and the polyjuice potion Hermione made, I'll masquerade as Dougal McGregor. She'll understand who Dougal really is."

"Oh, she'll understand all right," Poppy agreed, "and she'll thrash us both for allowing her to believe you were really dead." She wiped her brow. "Right now I need to prepare your 'body' for burial, so if you'll excuse me?"

 **July 1997**

"Thank you for coming to the staff meeting," Acting Headmistress McGonagall said shortly. She spread out her arms, indicating what had been Albus's office. "Please be seated. I'll make it as brief as possible, so we can all get on with our summer plans."

She handed around several rolled scrolls to each individual seated around the table. "Filius, you are planning to stay on as Charms instructor and Head of Ravenclaw, aren't you?"

The small man smiled. "Of course, Headmistress." He reached for a quill and signed his name with a flourish. Immediately the scroll rolled back up and vanished with a pop.

"Pomona?"

"If you think I'm leaving, you're quite mistaken." She smiled brightly at her best friend. "And, I'll be keeping the Hufflepuffs in line as always." She, too, signed her contract, which vanished with a similar pop.

"Horace, I'll have to ask you continue as professor of Potions and to act as Head of Slytherin house for the coming year," Acting Headmaster McGonagall said. "I know it's a great deal to set on your shoulders especially since you'd previously agreed only to return out of retirement for one year." She set down her quill and folded her hands across the parchment before her. "And I am hoping that Narcissa will continue teaching and will assist with Slytherin house."

"Of course, Minerva," Slughorn agreed. "I wouldn't leave you in the lurch."

"Under the circumstances, Headmistress, perhaps it would be best if I did not return," Narcissa said gravely. "I would not wish to make anyone feel uncomfortable." She looked around the table, her eyes lingering on each face. "I have been made to feel welcome here, to feel - safe," she added choosing her words carefully, "but, it has been made clear to me that I should return to Malfoy Manner and - wait."

Minerva nodded slowly as she picked up on what the younger witch left unsaid as well as what she did say. "I am truly sorry to see you leave," she told her sincerely. "We will all miss you."

"Cousin," Sirius spoke up, "and I speak for all here, I'm sure, if you ever need a place to go, for whatever reason -"

"Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home," the group responded in unison.

"Thank you," Narcissa replied tremulously. Quietly, she rose from her place at the table and withdrew.

A momentary silence fell on the room. Inhaling and slowly releasing her breath, McGonagall held out two more scrolls. "Professors Black," she said, "you will continue in your positions of the History of Magic and Arithmancy."

"I certainly will," Sirius told them. Quickly, he signed his teaching contract. "I'll need a good, steady income to support my growing family."

Cries of joy and congratulation rang the table. "Looks like I'll finally be able to keep the same job two years running," Remus quipped. He lowered his chin and looked askance at McGonagall.

"Septima?" McGonagall queried.

"I'm sorry, Minerva," the young witch declared with a brilliant smile. "Don't get me wrong, I love teaching, but right now being a mother and homemaker is a full-time job."

"Keeping Kreacher under control is a full time job, you mean," Sirius corrected. "We're going to have to take on a few more House Elves just to keep him in place."

Minerva chuckled. "Well, Remus, I see no reason why you can't continue teaching Arithmancy as long as you take your medication as directed," she told him. Flicking her wand, she changed names on the magical contracts and sent it floating down the table to him.

"Aurora, you will be teaching astronomy, again, I hope?" Minerva asked over the tops of her square cut glasses.

"I won't bail out just when you need allies the most," the dark witch said boldly.

"Hand me my contract, Minerva," Poppy said as she held out her hand. "You couldn't make me leave if you tried."

"Hagrid and Filch have already agreed to return next year and have signed their contracts." She looked down at the parchment. "Now, it seems we have a few empty places to fill. Divination is problematic. Sybil is still locked in her tower, and as Dumbledore gave her that place for life, I will not gainsay him. However, Firenze, too, has tendered his resignation as it were."

"I'm afraid we're also looking for a Muggle Studies teacher," Pomona added.

Remus frowned. "What happened to Charity?"

"We don't know," Filius answered. "She left sometime in June to mail out the letters to incoming Muggleborn students. She's never returned. The Ministry has been informed, and Aurors are still searching."

"Now, assuming I am approved as Headmistress, a Transfiguration professor will need to be found, and then there's the Defense post."

"What about Hermione?" Sinstra asked. "Surely, you'll find a position here for her. You can't turn the girl out no matter what her greasy, traitor of a husband did!"

"I have absolutely no intention of turning Hermione out!" snapped McGonagall. She glared at Sinistra for a moment. "I must apologize, Aurora," she told the witch. She waited until Sinistra nodded to continue. "At the moment, I plan to place Hermione in the Muggle Studies position and have her continue her Transfiguration apprenticeship part-time."

"Minerva," Poppy said carefully, "I have a cousin - dependable, honest, a fierce opponent of the Dark Arts. He's been living amongst the Muggles for many years now. Recently, he's contacted me, asking to join up with the Order of the Phoenix. Could you hire him for the Transfiguration position?"

"I'd be more than willing to see his CV," she replied. "Have him send it -" She stopped mid-sentence when Poppy produced a scroll from her pocket.

"He gave one to me yesterday when I met him at the Hog's Head Inn," she explained. "Dougal insisted I give this to you."

"Dougal?"

"Yes," Poppy said slowly and distinctly. "His name is Dougal McGregor."


	19. Chapter 19

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Thanks to Selek for his awesome beta job. And thank you SO VERY MUCH to all of you who have taken the time to review or send me private messages.

Please review.

 **Chapter 19**

 **July 1997**

As soon as the faculty meeting was adjourned and the room emptied, Acting Headmistress Minerva McGonagall lost no time in cornering Poppy. Pinning the school matron to her seat with a gimlet eye, Minerva asked elaborately casually, "Who did you say this cousin of yours was?"

Slowly, clearly enunciating every syllable, Poppy answered, "Dougal McGregor."

Minerva folded her hands to keep them from shaking. She swallowed and jerked her chin up a notch. But her face remained composed and placid. "I see," she said softly, "and you say he excels at Defense and Transfiguration?"

There was an unusual gleam in the Matron's eye. "Yes," she asserted boldly, "he's a master of Transfiguration, has taught it for many, many years. I'm sure you've seen his work." She smiled slowly. "As for Defense, he's bested Gellert Grindelwald."

All the blood drained from her face, and her hands dropped flat on the desk. "What are you saying?" she whispered hoarsely. "It's not possible!"

"Well," the matron huffed, "I would have thought you'd have remembered that I was a Slytherin…" Her words trailed off as she saw their meaning take root in Minerva's brain.

Minerva stood up abruptly, nearly toppling the chair. She walked around the desk, snagged Poppy up from her seat, and dragged them both to the balcony. There, she flung open the window and _accio-_ ed her broom. She stopped for one moment to stare at her friend. "Hop on," she ordered.

The women landed in Hogsmead in record time. Minerva came off her broom and into a near run in an instant. Poor Poppy had to dash to catch up with her. Pausing only a moment at the door to the Hog's Head Inn, Minerva gathered her breath and stilled her racing heart. She tried to be patient; she tried to appear unaffected. But her Gryffindor nature wouldn't let it happen.

Flinging the door wide open, she yelled into the room. "Aberforth Dumbledore! Where is he?"

Aberforth, a perpetual scowl on his face, came from around the bar. "Just who do you think you're screeching at, you harridan?" He removed his filthy apron and tossed it on the bar. Large hands on his hips, he blocked her entrance to the stairs.

A muscle just below her eye began to twitch. She never did like Aberforth. "I'm looking for Poppy's cousin, Dougal McGregor," she asserted. "I'm hiring him today. He needs to sign his contract."

He grunted a reply and tilted his head to look behind her, where Poppy had finally caught up with her. "Poppy's cousin, you say?" he asked gruffly. "That McGregor rascal? Aye, he's up there." He jerked his chin upwards. "Grouchy cuss, he is. Try room 301."

She grunted in reply, and he moved aside. "Poppy," she called back. Together the two women took the stairs and soon were standing outside of an oaken door bearing the dingy faceplate bearing the number 301. Minerva pounded on the door with a fist. "Mr. McGregor," she called out with a shaking voice. "I've come with your cousin, Poppy Pomfrey, to offer you a position at Hogwarts."

Within moments the door was opened to reveal a tall, broad shouldered Scot. Blond, blue-eyed and strongly built, the man appeared to be around twenty-five years old. He stepped back from the door to allow the two women to enter.

Minerva gasped. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest, and she couldn't breathe. The edges of her vision swam, and slowly darkness took her.

She woke up to find herself lying on a small, but clean bed. Poppy was seated beside her, bathing her forehead with eau de perfume. Her blue-eyed vision stood anxiously behind the healer. She sat up, batting Poppy's hand roughly away. "Dougal," she breathed at last, "or Albus? Who are you?"

Poppy stood and left the room, warding the door behind her. She cast an extra _muffliato_ and descended the stairs, setting blocking spells and trip alarms as she went.

The man settled quietly in the chair, tears pooling in his clear blue eyes. "Aye, Min," he whispered. "I'm Albus polyjuiced to look like your Dougal."

Panic was threatening to set in, and she began to hyperventilate.

"Breathe, Minerva," he urged her. "Just breathe."

Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take several long, deep breaths until she was at last able to catch hold of herself. Slowly, she opened her eyes and reached out to take his hands. "Explain." This one uttered word contained a myriad of emotions.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"I don't know whether to kiss you or beat you senseless!" she scolded.

Albus laughed. He had slowly unfolded the whole plan before her. "Minerva," he told her soberly, "I hope you can understand why Poppy and I kept this a secret from you. And why you must continue as if you believe me dead."

She sighed. "I can, Albus." She paused, considering. "But poor Severus! How could you leave the lad thinking he'd done you in?" Suddenly, she punched him hard in the arm. "How could you have asked him to do such a vile thing to begin with?"

"Ow!" he cried. "That'll leave a bruise."

"Good," she told him. "It's the least of what you deserve."

"You're right as always," he told her. He stood, rubbing his arm, and helped her to her feet. "I think it best if I take the Defense position and the rooms that were Severus'. They are closer to Slytherin house. Maybe I can influence some of them to join the Order."

"Aye," she agreed, "I'll have Sosty and Grazey move Hermione into that small suite attached to the Headmaster's rooms. She'll need looking after, and I can do that better if she's close."

 **August 25, 1997**

Severus Snape stood behind the Headmaster's desk looking disdainfully down his nose at his faculty. Flanking him, stood the Carrow twins. They sneered in turn.

"Now," Severus said slowly, deliberately drawing out each syllable, "let us understand one another, so there will be no . . . unpleasantness. The Dark Lord is in full charge of our world, and he does not care for . . . unpleasantness." He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Flitwick, Sprout, Slughorn, and McGonagall, you will continue in your positions as professors of Charms, Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration, respectively. You will also be charged with maintaining order amongst the Houses of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor, again, respectively."

"Oi, I'm supposed to take over Slytherin House," Amycus Carrow complained.

Headmaster Snape quelled him with a single searing glance. "All in good time, Amycus." He turned back to face the teachers ringing the table. "I shall expect Filch, Poppy, and Hagrid to retain their places." He pretended not to see Poppy lay a restraining hand on Hagrid's.

"And as I am unable to break your magical teaching contracts, that leaves me stuck with Lupin and Black." He spit out the words.

Black was out of his seat before Lupin could stop him. Catching Sirius around the waist, the Arithmancy teacher physically forced his friend back into his chair. "Sit down, Sirius," Lupin said from between clenched teeth.

"Sit. Stay. Good dog," Snape purred. His face was cold, twisted, and full of hate.

"I'll kill you," Sirius growled.

Snape merely smiled.

"That's grounds for dismissal, Headmaster Snape," crooned Alecto. "Black threatened his superior. You can sack him for that."

"I think not, Miss Carrow," Snape explained. "You see, it's good to keep your friends close, but it's better to keep your enemies closer." He waved an arrogant hand at Sirius, making it clear that he felt little more than contempt for him. "That leaves us with an opening for Muggle Studies, Divination, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts."

McGonagall tilted her head towards Hermione, who sat beside her. "Hermione has signed a contract," she stated flatly. "As Acting Headmistress, I offered her a position, which she accepted. She is to teach Muggle Studies."

"Excuse me," the young man sitting by Minerva's side said. "I've been offered and have accepted the Dark Arts position." His voice was firm and brooked no nonsense. He stood and extended his hand.

Snape took the fellow's hand, taking the time to peruse him. The wizard was as tall as Snape with broad shoulders and wide, strong hands. His wavy blond hair just touched his collar, framing an oval face with piercing bright blue eyes. He sported a smallish mustache and scruff around his chin. He reminded Severus of the film star Errol Flynn. "I am . . . unfamiliar . . . with you," he said at last.

"Dougal McGregor," the man said almost as if he were boasting. "As I said, I've been offered and have accepted a legally binding contract to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts." When Snape nodded acknowledging the import of his words, the tall man sat down.

"That post was promised to me," whispered Amycus angrily

"I cannot rescind a legally binding contract," Snape said. "And the man may well prove his worth." He paused and narrowed his eyes. There was something about the man that nagged at him, but he couldn't yet place it. "No matter, there is still the position of Divination. If you want it Amycus, it is yours."

"All right," the Death Eater agreed. "I'll take it."

"What about me? Amycus and I stay together. Where he goes, I go. So what's my position?" Alecto demanded.

Headmaster Snape frowned for a moment. "That will not be a problem, Alecto," he said with a smug smile. "You may teach Muggle Studies."

"That's Hermione's position," asserted McGonagall. She laid a protective hand on her apprentice's shoulder.

"She made that contract without my consent," he stated blandly. "As her husband, I refuse to accept it; therefore, I declare it null and void. Besides, my wife will be far too busy attending to me to do more than complete her apprenticeship." He grinned triumphantly at the Carrows. "I declare this meeting over. You may leave to begin planning." He paused. "Not you, Hermione. You will stay."

The shuffling sounds of leaving were accompanied by calls of encouragement to Hermione, and finally the soft snick as the door shut behind them. " _Muffliato_ ," Snape said as he added yet another privacy charm to the already triple warded Headmaster's suite.

A very long, uncomfortable silence stretched between husband and wife. Severus was more nervous than he'd ever been in his life. He feared that, just like with Lily, he was losing the woman he'd grown to love because of his own choice of actions. It made little difference that he'd been ordered by his victim to kill him. It made little difference that he was still actively engaged in spying for the Order. It made little difference that he had schemes to help Potter, plans to betray the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. What it came down to in the end, the only thought that kept circling through his mind, like vultures on high, was that he was sure to lose Hermione and with her, his child.

Hermione looked up at him, and he froze. Her angry eyes left little doubt in his fractured heart that she hated him. And how could he blame her? In two short months, he'd put her through hell! He'd left her all alone to carry his besmirched name and his hated progeny.

Purple dark smudges bruised the delicate skin below her red rimmed eyes, and her pale face was drawn tight. She obviously hadn't been sleeping well if at all. Like her co-workers, she was casually dressed for summer planning days, and her hair had been pulled up in a ponytail. Her hands were neatly folded atop her quill and parchment on the table. Her hands! On the left hand, gleaming in harsh patch of summer sunlight was her wedding ring. She still wore it.

"Where were you, Severus?" She broke the silence. "It's been nearly two months without a word from you. There were no phones where you were?" she quipped.

A harsh involuntarily laugh escaped him. No one who had ever been raised in the Muggle world could fail to miss the meaning of those words. "Dare I believe you were concerned for and missed me?"

She eyed him hard and steadily, and it was all he could do not to flinch. "Maybe," she conceded. Again, another long and painful silence stretched between them. "Why?"

He hung his head in shame at that one whispered word, his long hair covering his face. He took the time to master both his features and voice, and then he raised his head to face her. "I cannot explain, Hermione, not at this time, but," he swallowed hard and reached across the table to grasp her hands, "but when this is over, I swear to you that I will explain all."

She nodded and allowed him to hold her hands a little longer. Then, slowly she pulled her hands back, braced them on the table, and stood, stunning Severus by her appearance. He knew she was wearing a simple kelly green t-shirt, but when she stood he saw that she also wore khaki shorts and sandals. It wasn't the clothing that shocked him. It was the fact that she was clearly no longer pregnant.

His eyes flickered rapidly back and forth from her slightly rounded belly, so unlike the full ripeness that had been there a scant two months ago, and her hard, whiskey colored eyes. She should be due any day now, but there was no baby to be seen. Had she lost the child? If she had and he had been absent while she suffered -

Quickly, he counted in his head. The child should have been born at the end of August. He noted that her eyes softened for a fraction of a moment, and he felt some of his stiffness relax. So she had not lost the child! His eyes widened at that thought. _I'm a father!_

He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back, taking refuge in formalities. "Might I be allowed to see my daughter?" he asked.


	20. Chapter 20

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Thanks to my beta, Selek; He's great. Thank you to all my reviewers. They really keep me wanting to keep writing.

Please review.

 **Chapter 20**

"You may not," Hermione told him and was rewarded when he sucked in a breath and held it. He stood there dumbfounded, unable to comprehend, until she lost the battle with herself. The slow smirk that she tried so hard to hide was beginning to show.

He grinned. He really couldn't help it. "A son, then. May I see my son?" he asked with a supercilious sniff.

Hermione pinched her lips together in an unconscious imitation of McGonagall. "You may not," she responded crisply. It wasn't much, but she could keep him guessing, a little enough punishment for leaving her alone without a single word for two months.

The grin fell from his face. "I don't understand," he admitted. "You didn't lose…" He trailed off, hurt and anger beginning to play across his features. "May. I. See. My. Child?"

As much as she wanted to, as much as he deserved it, she couldn't stand to see him hurting. She had grown the love the bastard. "You may not," she said with a playful smile. "Not a daughter, not a son," she explained as she walked around the desk to stand closer to him, "not a child." She paused, smiling up at him, enjoying his lingering confusion. "Twins."

Severus Snape reached blindly behind him for the chair back. Suddenly, he needed the support. Suddenly, there wasn't enough air in the room. He gasped and recovered himself, griping her shoulders tightly. "What did you say? Twins?"

Hermione laughed then. "Yes, twins!" she told him.

Together they passed through the office and into the Headmaster's private suite beyond. The Hogwarts house elves were speedily removing Minerva's things and resettling Severus'. As Hermione led him towards the bedroom, where the children were sleeping, the House elves cast dark looks at the new Headmaster and scampered out of the way.

Just as they reached the threshold of the bedroom; however, tiny Grazey popped into view blocking their entrance. "Just what Missy 'mione be thinking?" demanded the little elf, arms akimbo. "Missy 'mione brings bad man to see her babies? You know old Master of Potions killed Dumblydore!" Grazey pointed directly at Severus.

"I do know, Grazey," Hermione said gently, "and he'll answer to that later, I'm sure." She turned her head to look at the tall man behind her. Her voice was sad and soft but firm when she spoke again. "But, he is their father, Grazey," she told the little elf. "He has a right to see his own children."

Grazey angrily shook her head back and forth until her ears slapped against her head. "No, no, no! Missy 'mione not thinking with her head. She still thinking with her heart!"

By this point the other House elves had stopped their chores and were clearly watching what was becoming an open rebellion. Would they side with Grazey or remain loyal to the Hogwarts' Headmaster? Inwardly, Severus agreed with the elf. He did not deserve to see his children. It would be infinitely better for them and for Hermione to be as far away from him as possible.

But Dumbledore had set him a task: protect Hogwarts and her students from the Dark Lord no matter what. For what was to come he could brook no disobedience, especially from a House elf. He needed to maintain control.

He donned his fiercest scowl and drew himself up tall and implacable. Directing his black eyed glare down on the creature, he inhaled deeply to blast Grazey with everything he had.

"No need for anger, Headmaster," another, older elf said softly. "Old Sosty will handle youngster." With stern gray eyes, the older elf took Grazey by the ear and pulled her away from the door. "Grazey will come with Sosty, now. Grazey needs more training."

"Thank you, Sosty," Hermione said softly. Although she didn't know exactly what was at stake, she knew that this situation needed to be settled quickly. "Please tell Professor McGonagall that I will be ready to help her as soon as Grazy is back."

Sosty bowed her head to Hermione and shot a look of speculation at Severus. "Sosty is here to serve." With that the two elves popped out of the room and the others returned to their tasks.

" _Lumos Semiosis_ ," Hermione said softly, casting a soft half-light in the room. "Shh," she said to her husband, "they are asleep."

Following his wife, Severus tiptoed over to peer into the double cradle, where it sat beside the large bed. He was stunned speechless by what he saw, and his legs buckled. Slowly, he sat down on the bed and gazed in awe at his sons.

Curly black hair topped two round heads, rosebud mouths, shell ears - they were perfect. Severus Snape wondered how he could be so blessed. He blinked, and his tears fell down his cheeks. "They are so tiny," he whispered. He raised a hand towards the cradle, wanting desperately to touch them but too afraid.

"Twins usually come early," Hermione explained, "because they need more room, and a first child usually comes early anyway. That's why they are so small, but Poppy and the healer at St. Mungos have assured me that they are healthy and gaining weight fast."

Severus rested his trembling hand on the edge of the cradle.

"It's all right. You can touch them. They won't break," Hermione urged. "Besides, now that you're here, you are going to have to help me with them." Carefully, she scooped up a baby, the one wrapped tightly in a soft blue blanket, and lay him tenderly in his father's arms.

"Hermione," he half-protested, "I haven't held a child since I was named Draco's godfather, and that's been-"

"It'll come back to you," she told him. She watched as he instinctively cuddled the small bundle to his chest. "See," she smiled at him.

Severus tore his gaze away from this son to look at his wife. "What did you name him?"

"Well, I thought we had more time to choose, but since you weren't here to help," she reproached him, "I chose what I liked. I haven't held a Christening yet. I was waiting, hoping you'd return first."

He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. "Of course, my wife would make a wise decision. Let's hear what you've called them."

She grinned. "The eldest one is Severus Emrys Snape, named after -"

"Me," he said bitterly. "Would you really saddle a baby with such a despised name?"

"I don't despise you."

He gazed into her eyes, seeing her unconditional love for him shining through. He wished he could tell her how he felt, but it was pointless now. He inhaled and tried again. "You do know that Emrys is one of the names for Merlin, don't you? You deliberately named our son after Merlin? You certainly have made life difficult for the poor child. Not only will he never be able to live down my cursed name, but also it will be nearly impossible for him to live up to his other namesake."

Hermione's lips pinched together in irritation. "Merlin happened to be a Slytherin, my second favorite Slytherin," she snipped. Deftly, she reached into the second cradle and removed a baby wrapped in a cheerful, butter yellow blanket; she settled the infant in the crook of his father's left arm. "And this is your younger son, Taliesin Albus Snape."

Carefully schooling his face and keeping his voice bland, he queried, "And the reason behind that choice?"

Honey colored eyes held black ones steadily, and they did not flinch. "The name Albus is to honor a great wizard who died just as he and his brother were born."

Severus dropped his head in shame. "I am sorry, Hermione," he said softly. "I wish I could explain, but I can't. Not now." He raised his face to look at her. "You promised me your loyalty. I need it now more than ever. Can you keep your promise?"

She sighed. "Severus, surely you must know by now that I love -"

He interrupted her, unwilling to allow her to voice that thought. "And his first name? Taliesin? He was a poet, a bard, a druid, and a great wizard."

Hermione paused, and then she smiled. "Yes, a Gryffindor, too, but that isn't really his namesake. I named him after Narcissa Malfoy's favorite grandfather."

"Narcissa?" he exclaimed. The frown line between his brows deepened. "Why in the world would you do that?"

"Because she played midwife that night and delivered them."

He let that pass for the moment. After all, what could he say? "Help me settle them again, please." Once his sons were again sleeping in their cradles, he turned to her. "Why, may I ask, do my children's cradles look like a quidditch match? Hogwarts banners flying everywhere! Hufflepuff yellow and Ravenclaw blue blankets! Gryffindor red and Slytherin green padding!"

Hermione pinched her lips together and frowned. "Because everyone - the students and staff of all four houses- have come together and presented gift after gift for them. Yes, even your Slytherins! Why, Narcissa has already established a university trust fund for them!"

He smiled slowly. "Then my plan worked."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

As they exited the Headmaster's room, the faculty headed off in separate directions in order to prepare for the coming year. All of them, that is, except, the four Heads of house. Knowing each other for as long as they did, they hastily snuck back to McGonagall's sitting room.

"I'm afraid we haven't met," said Slughorn carefully as he entered the room. His gaze had alighted on Dougal McGregor, whom he viewed with considerable interest and a bit of undisguised suspicion. He held out his hand to the younger man.

"Have a cup of tea," Pomona urged as she pushed a cup into his hands. The warm, fragrant brew filled the room. "It's my own special blend, you know, to welcome you to Hogwarts. Filius, dear, would you help Minerva serve?"

"I'd be delighted, pet," the Charms professor replied cheerily.

Soon, they - Slughorn, McGregor, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and Pompfrey - were seated in a circle, silently sipping tea.

McGregor frowned into his empty cup and set it onto the saucer. He looked up in bemusement at them. "Why, I do believe you've gone and laced my tea with Veritiserum."

"What in the world would make you think that?" Pomona gasped, laying a hand on her breast.

"Of just what are you accusing my wife?" demanded Flitwick angrily.

"Oh, I don't think there's any bother there," Slughorn replied with a casual laugh, "unless you're a supporter of He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named." He laughed again. "You aren't, are you?"

Minerva and Poppy exchanged fleeting looks.

"No," McGregor answered forcefully, "though I do pity the poor fellow. He's never really known what family or love is. Sad, really, if you think about it."

"Now, that's enough," Poppy said tartly. "You've found out what you wanted, and you can see my cousin Dougal is trustworthy. I mean, really, how dare you treat him like that!"

Minerva hid a smile behind her cup before setting it down. "You'll have to forgive them," she told McGregor. "In these troubling times, they have to be sure which side you're truly on."

McGregor laughed. "No hard feelings," he answered. "All's quite forgiven. In your shoes, I might have been tempted to do the same."

"Good," Flitwick said smartly, sitting up straight. "Now, we need a plan of action. What can we do to protect the children and the school?"

"And disrupt the 'powers that be'?" Minerva added with a grin.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Report," the dour Headmaster demanded.

At once Alecto complained. "I'm not happy at all with how things are going, Snape. I've tried to show these students how disgusting Muggles really are, but they don't seem to be paying attention. I've actually had a few speak out very disrespectfully, and I had to punish several upper years."

"I foresee many more such punishments," Amycus said in a fake mystical tone. He giggled hysterically. "I'm still learning the lingo from that old bat Sybil Trelawney, but I'll have it down pat in another week or so." He stopped laughing and scratched his head. "Now that you mention it, I've had trouble with the little buggers, too."

"You will address me as Headmaster, Miss Carrow," Snape droned. "And, for the record, Mr. Carrow, we do not refer to our students as 'little buggers' either."

"The Healer's Club has initiated fifteen new members," Poppy said crisply. "A good thing, too, apparently with all the 'punishments' those two are dishing out." She sniffed at the twins. "Miss Lavender Brown and several of her friends are well on their way to becoming first rate nurses."

"Wonderful," Snape replied in a tone which seemed to indicate that he thought it anything but. "Anything else?"

There was a brief pause before Flitwick spoke. "The Dueling Club seems to have grown exponentially," he said as he stared at Snape. "The prospect of war has nearly all of the sixth and seventh years working on their fighting skills. I've had to enlist the help of McGonagall and McGregor."

"Hmmm." Snape's noncommittal response was followed by a seemingly innocent question. "And if it comes to war here at the school?"

Sprout popped up. "I've already set plans to protect the children," she affirmed.

Professor Slughorn sniffed. "I'm calling in a few favors with some of my former students. The Slugclub will assist Mrs. Snape in leading the younger children out."

"Yes," Headmaster Snape muttered. "Is there anything else?"

"I insist that you deal with the problems I'm having with the students, _Headmaster_ Snape," Alecto insisted, being sure to stress his title. "Three times since opening day I've had all of my ink transfigured into cockroaches," she whined. "And someone charmed all of those damn Muggle devices to dance around and sing some song about being a guest. It was quite frightening."

"It could be worse," Amycus moaned. "The precious, little _darlings_ ," he paused to glare at Snape, making sure the Headmaster heard the sarcasm in his voice, "have given me a stomach complaint twice now. I've nearly given up trying to teach them how to read tea leaves. After every lesson, I've had the runs."

"Thank you for that," Snape said quickly. "Both of you are new to teaching. Perhaps you are expecting too much from the students." He glanced around at the other staff members. "Are any of the rest of you having difficulties with discipline? No? Well, then I'm sure it would help if our newest members of staff had a peer teacher to assist them." He grinned at his staff. "Black, you will assist Amycus. Lupin, you will assist Alecto. Meeting adjourned."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

The Rebels, as they had dubbed themselves, met in the usual place. Minerva's private sitting room was now considered their war room. Their on-going campaign to sabotage the Carrow twins was in full swing, and they made a point of meeting once a week to compare notes and make new plans.

"Hermione, that was brilliant," Poppy congratulated the young mother. "How did you ever think to make those Muggle things dance around and sing? I can tell you that Carrow girl was shaking in her shoes! I had to prescribe a sedative for her."

Skillfully changing Emrys' nappie, she handed him over to Pomona's waiting arms and began working on Albus. She smiled. "Oh, it was just something from one of my favorite movies," she said casually. "Oh, Albus, be still."

McGregor jumped. "Hmm?" he questioned as Minerva gave him a fierce glare and a jolt in the side with her elbow. "Here," he offered, "I'll take the lad."

"I've had a marvelous time," Lupin agreed. "Alecto is a blithering basket of nerves at best. I've 'helped' her to the point where she thinks she's losing her mind." He laughed. "She honestly believes her grade book is possessed because it keeps vanishing, and she thinks I'm some grand hero because I always seem to find it sitting right on her desk."

"But, Pomona, I don't know how to top your 'special laxitive tea' prank. " Sirius and everyone laughed with delight. "I plan to get Hagrid to help me enlist Buckbeak. I thought it would be interesting to have a hippogriff appear and vanish from time to time in the back of his classroom."

"Speaking of Pomona's 'special tea'," Slughorn added thoughtfully. "I'd like to borrow some of it, the blend we initiated McGregor with. Early on in the year, you see, I make it a practice to meet with all of my little snakes. It would be beneficial, I think, to see where their loyalties lie."

"Well, have fun, but beware they don't take out their frustrations on the children any more than they already do. Here, Dougal, hand him over. It's Granny Min's time to hold the boy."

"Amen to that," swore Poppy. "I can't tell you the number of younger students I've had to treat this year. I plan to make a fuss of it at our next staff meeting."

Lupin smiled. "Will do," he said. "But it's funny that Snape assigned us to look after his favorites."

Sirius laughed again. "Yes, it's almost as if old Snivellus wanted to make it easy for us to -"

"Don't you dare call him that!" bristled Hermione. "Whatever he's done, he's still my husband, Sirius, and I won't hear -"

Quickly, he held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, little mum," he said gently, "I'm sorry. Truly, I am. I won't pretend to like him or that he's on the right side." He paused as he noted the angry red pulses of power emanating from the witch. "But, I won't disrespect him anymore. At least not in front of you or his children."

The red waves beating above her head wavered and subsided. Hermione sighed. "All right, Sirius, I guess for now that's fair."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

When Hermione returned with the twins, Severus pinned her with a fierce glare. "My dear wife," he asked coldly, "why are you intent on tormenting our newest members of staff?" He gently looked down into the charmed double stroller. "The boys are asleep."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she replied angrily.

Severus, snorting with laughter, joined her. "And I'm equally sure that you do! Furniture dancing around singing 'Be Our Guest' was a dead giveaway."

She tried to maintain a frown of confusion, but the façade broke into snickers. "I'm sorry," she lied.

He snorted. "No, you're not."

"Oh, Severus, please don't be angry with me, but the way those two treat the students, well, they had it coming!"

He gazed fondly at his wife. "They did, indeed. No," he said brusquely as he unwound her arms from his neck, "do not think for one moment I condone your behavior. Tomorrow at breakfast, you will confess before everyone and humbly beg their forgiveness."

"I will do no such thing," she roared.

"You. Will," he growled. "I order you do so!"

Cold silence reigned in their home that night.


	21. Chapter 21

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Many thanks to Selek the best beta I know. Thanks to all my reviewers.

Please review.

 **Chapter 21**

"I am very sorry for mistreating you two that way," Hermione confessed loudly. She hung her head in apparent penitence. "And I can only pray that you'll both forgive me."

"Well, now we know," Amycus cried with a curl of disgust on his lip. "It was the mudblood all along."

"The little bitch must be severely punished!" screeched Alecto. "Detention isn't enough!"

A violent clamoring of voices swelled from the students of all houses and joined with the mutinous murmurs from the staff. If the Headmaster failed to quell the rising tide, violence was sure to break out.

"Enough!" Severus' shout rang out across the Great Hall. From all tables, angry faces glared at him and the Carrows. "Now, Mrs. Snape, in our wedding vows, you promised to obey me, didn't you?

Hermione raised her head, her face red with embarrassment and anger. "Yes, Headmaster, I did." She noticed that Black held his butter knife like a switchblade, and Hagrid had crushed his goblet. Pumpkin juice was running down his fist.

"Then I must insist on your word here before all assembled that you will not let me catch you carrying out such asinine practical jokes again," Severus, in a cold, haughty tone, commanded.

"No, Headmaster," Hermione agreed with wet remorseful eyes, "I promise you'll not catch me committing any more silly pranks again."

"Damn right," from behind his toast Black mumbled to Lupin. "The stakes have just been raised from silly to deadly serious." He caught Slughorn's eye, who motioned subtlety to Draco.

Draco nodded almost imperceptibly towards Seamus Finnegan, who nudged Longbottom in the ribs. Neville, in turn, winked at Luna. Luna merely turned around, leaned back, and whispered in Susan Bones' ear.

Taking a long, fake sip of tea, Flitwick eyed the exchange amongst faculty and the students. "Hmm," he grunted in return, "and it looks like she'll have plenty of help with things as well."

 **October 30, 1997**

"Dougal," Minerva whispered in the dark, "we can't go on like this. I can't go on like this."

He frowned and sat up. "What do you mean?" he asked huskily.

"I mean," she told him, "that I want Albus, not some husk of a dream of a young man from long, long ago. I'm not a girl. I'm a grown woman, and I want Albus. I want to call you Albus not Dougal." She laughed. "What's more, we can't take a chance of being caught by either the students or the faculty."

He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm fairly sure that Poppy is already aware of the fact, which means the others know as well." He grinned at her. "I overheard Black and Lupin calling you some sort of 'cougar,' but I assured them that they were mistaken. Your animagus form is a tabby not a -"

She laughed with wicked delight. "You silly, silly man!" She took her time to kiss him back. "But for now, please, let's be more careful, hmm?"

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Ginny," Hermione spoke softly into the mirror, "Ginny, wake up. It's Hermione."

"I'm awake," the Weasley girl answered quickly. "What is it? Has something happened?"

Hermione smiled at her friend's face in the mirror. She glanced over her shoulder at the closed door. "Nothing's happened," she assured Ginny. "I just wanted to make sure you guys are all right."

Ginny smiled. "We're fine, Hermione. We're staying -"

"No," Hermione whispered fiercely, "don't tell me. All I need to know is that you're all on the run."

"Oi," Ron called over his sister's shoulder, "can you help us out with some food?"

"Hush, Ron," Ginny snapped as she smacked her brother on the arm. "If anyone hears, Hermione might lose the mirror, and -"

"And they'll know where we are," finished Harry. "Hey, Hermione, are you okay?"

"We're fine," she assured them. She held up a curly haired baby to the mirror and waved his hand at them. "I will be taking the twins to visit Septima and Hyacinth Black today, and I'll make arrangements with Septima's parents to get some supplies for you." She glanced over her shoulder quickly. "I have to hurry. Ginny, later this week go see Michael and Nancy Vector. They live on Matlock Street in East London. Tell them Hyacinth sent you. I have to go. Goodbye and God speed."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Hermione," Severus stated bluntly, "I have to ask you a question, and you must tell me the absolute truth." He held her eyes. "Remember that you have vowed 'to obey' your husband."

It was late in the evening, and together they had just settled the boys down to sleep. She swallowed hard, hoping that he wouldn't ask about Harry, Ron, and Ginny. She'd die before she betrayed them, and she would hate herself if she lied to Severus.

She patted Grazey on the arm, knowing the elf would sit up all night watching her children. Then she partially closed the door to the newly added nursery and entered the bedroom. "What do you want, Severus?" she asked. To cover her nervousness, she took an extra long time to remove her robe and slippers. When she finally slid into bed, he was already there waiting for her.

"Do not look so distraught," he told her gently. "I have no intentions of asking you anything that might worry you unduly. However, I would like to know what devious devices you and your cohorts have planned for the Halloween party."

"Oh," she said with relief, "Severus, I know how upsetting this time of year is for you. I'll see to it that no one does anything that -"

"Used to be, Hermione," he interrupted. "This time of year used to upset me most dreadfully, and while it still pains me to think of -"

"Lily," she supplied softly.

He eyed her speculatively. "Yes, Lily," he continued. "She no longer haunts me. I have found another, more worthy, lady to occupy my thoughts." Gallantly, he kissed her hand. "Now, tell me what pranks my staff is concocting for the Halloween feast."

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked guardedly.

He gazed fondly at his wife. "Hermione, while I cannot be bothered with every tiny complaint of the Carrows," he told her slowly, trying to express what he wanted her to know but could not say aloud, "I am beholden to the Dark Lord. It was he who insisted I employ them at Hogwarts."

He paused this time, willing her to understand that he detested them as much as everyone else. "Those two are singularly piss-poor teachers, detrimental to the educational process, and thoroughly incompetent. However, I cannot dismiss them without 'good and sufficient cause'."

He pulled her close to him and extinguished the candles. "Hermione, I am not as upset about the practical jokes played on them as I am about your being charged as the perpetrator. It will be considered as a serious crime, and you will be presented to the Dark Lord for his punishment."

"Oh, I know that, Severus," she whispered, "and I know that you do love me and the boys. It just frustrates me not knowing exactly which side you're on, and then I have to listen to Sirius, and I don't know whether to- "

He stopped her with a kiss. "You talk too much, my dear," he informed her dryly and kissed her again. "No matter what, Hermione, I am always on your side. Nevertheless, if you truly wish to rid Hogwarts of the Carrows, you'll have to provide me with a great deal more evidence to discredit them in the eyes of the Dark Lord."

"Or," she suggested slyly, "perhaps they could be persuaded to quit on their own."

"Mayhap," he murmured, pursing his lips, considering. "But back to the subject. What Halloween pranks are being planned?"

"Well, it is tradition for the seventh years to spike the punch," she said thoughtfully.

"I remember something my mother told me when I first received my Hogwarts letter," Severus mused. "One Halloween, the seniors from all four houses banded together to prank the professors."

"Go on," she pushed as she snuggled up to him.

He smiled and pulled her closer. "It was something about the food."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Sirius Black was laughing so hard, he nearly wet himself. "That was utterly brilliant!" he cackled with amusement once he'd recovered his breath. "Who'd have ever thought of caramel covered onions? And the Carrow twins just crunched right into them!"

Poppy wagged a finger at her friend. "Pomona, how in the world did you ever pull it off?"

Sprout chortled with delight. "Thank you, Poppy, dear, but I cannot take credit for it. I do vaguely remember a similar joke being played several years ago."

"Now that you mention it," Slughorn added, "I seem to remember it as well."

"That's right! I believe it was the graduating class of 1958," Flitwick wheezed as he wiped tears from his eyes.

Hooch, who had instantly joined them when she heard of the Rebels, lifted an eyebrow. "Personally, I thought the mayonnaise-filled puff pastries were genius," she added.

"No, the funniest prank was when someone, who shall remain nameless -" He grinned widely. "- laced their Halloween punch with _amortentia_ ," Slughorn commented dryly.

"It might have been funny to you," Remus Lupin muttered, "but not to me. Alecto followed me around all evening."

"I've got news for you, laddie," Minerva told him, "but she's been following you with her eyes since she joined the staff."

"Sweet Circe!" he cried. "Someone _avada_ me now."

"I have a better idea," Poppy replied. She shared laughing grins and sly looks with Minerva and Pomona. "What if we made her believe that you really did like her?"

"No," Remus sputtered. "Absolutely not."

"Wait, Remus," Sirius laughed, "let's hear her out."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Chocolate covered brussel sprouts? Toothpaste filled biscuits?" Severus shook his head and bit his inner check to keep from laughing aloud. "Hermione, how could you perpetrate such juvenile pranks on the Carrows?"

"It wasn't me this time, Severus. I promise," she giggled. "Emrys, you little devil," she exclaimed. "He's weed in the bath water again."

Headmaster Snape quickly plucked up his son from the bath. "Hand me a towel, will you? I'll not ask who it was," he said to the baby as he began drying him off. "I'll assume it was the Seventh years out for a lark."

Wisely, Hermione bit her lip, knowing that he was only partially correct. She remembered how earlier during the week, Draco and Blaise had cornered her in the corridor.

"A word, Mrs. Snape," Blaise called out.

Warily, she stopped. She had heard from Slughorn that the two young men were whole heartedly on the side of the light, but years of being a target for Slytherin house made her cautious of them. "Mr. Zabini, Mr. Malfoy," she acknowledged them and nodded coolly, "how may I assist you?"

Draco smiled most charmingly. "We have a question about Muggle Studies, particularly the Halloween practice called 'Trick or Treat'," he stated calmly. "Blaise and I understand what is meant by 'treat,' but we were wondering exactly what constituted a 'trick'."

Hermione's eyebrows rose. A quick glance at Blaise, who winked and grinned at her, told her what she needed to know.

"Well," she launched into professor mode, "it is common practice to trick or pull pranks on people that night, especially those who are not forthcoming with treats."

"So," Blaise said, "if someone was mean and refused to give treats, he or she would be a fair target to be tricked."

When Hermione nodded, Draco asked, "What sort of tricks?"

She blinked, returning herself to the present. Luckily, she'd warned the rest of the faculty to steer clear of any food on the professor's table at the party. Ducking her head with a poorly hidden smile, she wondered how Severus would feel if he knew that it was with his own suggestions that Slytherin house had wrought havoc on the Carrows.

"As I was saying," Severus whispered, now that the boys were asleep, "beetles instead of raisins in the eccles cakes? Wooden chips?" Suddenly, he snatched her into his arms. "But I must say the exploding catsup bottle was fantastic! However, did you achieve it?"

Hermione giggled. "I told you, Severus. I didn't do it."

"But you know how it's done, don't you?" His black eyes twinkled at her.

She laughed. "Of course, it's really very easy. Surely a Potions Master can remember what happens if you introduce a little baking soda to the vinegar in the catsup?"

He laughed aloud and kissed her soundly. "And what other tortures do you and your confederates have in store?"

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"A very good evening, Miss Bulstrode," Sirius smiled grandly at the Slytherin as they passed in the corridor. He nodded at the girl and winked.

"I think it may snow," Millicent replied. "What a lovely pink tie you're wearing tonight, Professor Black." With that cryptic comment, she kept on walking.

"Yes, I think you're right," Sirius answered.

"What what the hell was that all about?" Remus demanded once they'd passed the girl. "There's no snow in the forecast, and you're tie is Gryffindor red."

Sirus grinned manically at Remus. "Oh, that was just a little heads-up on what to expect tonight. Bulstrode and company have charmed the Alecto Carrow's shampoo, you see. Every time someone mentions the word 'snow', her hair will change to a bright pink."

Remus stopped walking. He was completely flabbergasted. "You don't say!"

Quickly, Sirius jogged back to his pal, laughing like a goon. "Oh, don't go believing all that claptrap about Slythernins, now Remus. That's just house prejudice. Just because she's a Slytherin, doesn't mean that Bulstrode is a junior Death Eater. Oh, no, she's quite in our camp. In fact, from what Slughorn and and Draco tell me -"

"Draco?" Remus all but shouted. "Bulstrode is one thing, but how did Draco bloody Malfoy join our side?" Utter confusion shown on his face.

Black took him by the arm, again, and began walking him towards the staff lounge. "You miss too much when you're out on the full moon," he muttered. "Last month, Slughorn interviewed all of Slytherin house with some of Pomona's _veritiserum_ tea," he whispered. "So, now we know where Draco as well as a great many Slytherin have placed their loyalties. And they are definitely helping us."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry I was just up late feeding the boys and finally had the time to call," Hermione spoke quietly into the mirror.

"No, problem, 'mione," Ron added. He cast a sullen glance at Harry and Ginny. "These two shouldn't be alone together at night like this anyway," he grumbled.

Ginny opened her mouth to blast her brother, but Harry nudged her, so she satisfied herself with glaring at him instead. The whole scene left Hermione feeling odd.

"It's that damned locket, isn't it?" Hermione asked as she hefted the baby to her shoulder. "No matter, I've figured out a way to destroy it."

"How?" Ron blurted out. Depression and suspicion made his voice desperate.

Hermione gritted her teeth. "The Sword of Gryffindor," she said firmly. "It will be able to destroy the horcrux in the locket."

Harry frowned. "Yeah, but, Hermione, how do we get the sword?"

"So, that's why Dumbledore left the sword to Harry," exclaimed Ginny. "Now, it's making sense!"

"No," Ron muttered pessimistically, "it would have made sense if the old geezer had just told us what to do in the first place."

Their chatter was halted by a loud and content burp from young Albus. The young people laughed at the sound, and it relieved the tension.

"I've got a plan to send you the sword," Hermione informed them. "There's a new DADA teacher, Mr. Dougal McGregor. He's Poppy Pomfrey's cousin, and he's rather, uh, cozy, with Minerva."

"Eww," Ron complained, covering his ears, "I don't want to hear this."

Ginny shushed her brother and punched his arm. Harry laughed loudly.

"Dougal will take the sword to the Clerk of Court in Caithness, Scotland. Ron, next Monday you will go to the city administration building. Wear a Muggle business suit, and ask for Mr. Colquhon. Tell him your name is Iain Dubh McGregor and that you've come to pick up a package."

"That's brilliant, Hermione," Ron told her.

"Thanks, Ron," she replied. "Once you've destroyed the locket, be sure to let me know and to return the sword to Mr. Colquhon. Minerva will return it."

"That still leaves us with four unknown horcruxes," Ginny mused. "I'm wondering if he made one out of something from each of the Founders of Hogwarts."


	22. Chapter 22

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Again, I couldn't do this without Selek! Hugs and thanks to my reviewers!

Please review.

 **Chapter 22**

 **January 1998**

"I'm sorry we woke you, Hermione," Harry said sheepishly into the mirror. "We just wanted to run an idea by you."

She waved a tired hand at his face in the mirror. "Don't worry about it," she told him softly. "With the boys teething and beginning to crawl, I'm not getting much sleep any way."

He smiled ruefully as Ginny and Harry exchanged glances. "Anyway," Ron continued, "the sword worked brilliantly. It completely destroyed the locket, and I think I know of another horcrux. It's at the school."

Hermione sat up straight and tucked a fluff of unruly hair behind her ear. "That's wonderful, Ron. What is it? I'll check it out today."

"See, I had detention once for Professor Flitwick, and he made me polish all of the trophies in the trophy case -"

"Hermione doesn't need all the details, Ron," Ginny interrupted. "Cut to the important parts."

"Yeah," he agreed as he rubbed his nose, "any way, there was a trophy to Thomas Marvolo Riddle for something or other."

"I'm not sure," Harry conceded, "but I think I've seen something about this in Tom's memories. He must have substituted his trophy for Helga Hufflepuff's cup."

"I'll check it out," Hermione agreed, "and if it is a horcrux, I'll get Minerva and Dougal to help me destroy it."

"Be careful, Hermione," Ginny warned. "When Ron destroyed the locket, well, I've never seen anything like it!"

"I'll be careful," she promised.

 **January 1998**

"Damn it all," Remus argued, "isn't there some other way to humiliate the woman without involving me?"

"No, she already likes you, Merlin help you, and we'll be able to get her and her brother at one time," Sirius informed him. He threw an arm around his buddy's shoulder and all but frog marched him down the corridor. "Don't back out now. Even Trelawney's in on it."

"Trelawney?" he hissed at his friend. "What has Sybil to do with this?"

Sirus gripped Remus' shoulder more tightly. "You don't think she likes either one of the Carrows, do you? Trelawney, bat-shit crazy she might be, can't stand either of them, especially Amycus. You know how he's always mocking her." He stopped in the middle of the corridor and punched Lupin in the chest. "Come on, man, no matter how this goes down, you'll come out smelling like a rose."

Together the two men entered the staff room, which was packed to the edges. The Headmaster had made attendance at the Christmas staff meeting mandatory, but he was nowhere to be seen. Black pushed Lupin into a seat.

"Oh, aye," Hagrid was saying to Professor Sprout, "I'm agreein' with ye. It's sure ta snow by sundown." He tilted his head up to peer out the window.

"I see…, I see…," Trelawney droned, "I see the man of your dreams rescuing you from grave danger." She gripped Alecto's hand and dragged her to a seat near the head of the table. "He will enfold your, your, your cherry blossom hair," she ended in a high wavering drone.

"There it goes again. Alecto's hair charm," Pomona said with overly sweet concern. "Pink as a Pepto-peony! Whatever did you do? I'm sure Filius can help reverse the charm."

"I've done nothing!" shouted Alecto. "It's one of those little monsters! Probably Snape's little Mudblood pet!"

"I am not a pet! I am the Headmaster's wife!" Hermione shouted, her face reddened with anger. "And I most certainly did nothing to your hair!"

"There's no need to be rude especially when it is almost certain to be your own fault," Flitwick piped up. He glared at the twins over the tops of his eyeglasses. "If I remember correctly, neither one of you were very good at charms. In fact, I do believe the two of you barely passed."

"They weren't very good at anything academic," snipped Minerva. She continued grading papers, barely looking up. "Failed nearly every subject. It was all I could do to schedule enough classes that year so they could scrape together a few credits to graduate."

Slughorn settled in a seat next to Sprout. "Would you be so kind, Poppy, and serve up a spot of tea? Thank you, my dear." He took a long sip of the warm liquid. "No, I'll have to disagree with the two of you. It doesn't feel like snow at all, more like ice."

"Oh," Remus said as he smiled gently at Alecto, "you're hair's gone back to normal again." He appeared a trifle wistful. "Not that I mind hair that changes colors. I think it's rather nice. Pink, especially, is a very nice color."

Trelawney began picking through Alecto's hair, and the Muggle studies teacher tried to beat away her hands. "Do you think so, Remus?" Alecto asked, her voice sugary sweet. "You aren't bothered by pink hair?"

"Oh, of course, pink's his favorite, isn't it, Remus?" Black persisted. "Hey, Amycus, pass that tray of biscuits, would you? Thanks. Why don't you have one yourself? No? Still suspicious of treats?" Munching the cookie, Sirius called out again, "Hey, haven't you two got a birthday coming up?"

By now, Sybil's many bracelets and rings were hopelessly caught in Alecto's long hair. "Oooh, oh, my," Sybil mumbled. She stood up, looming over Alecto, and attempted to disengage them. "Let me just see if I can…" She trailed off as her beads and necklaces, too, became entangled in the long, red hair.

"Ow! You're hurting me, you stupid creature!" screamed Alecto. Blindly, she reached up trying to help. Every eye in the room was focused intently on the spectacle. "Help!" she exclaimed. "Someone help!"

Remus promptly stood, and like a hero on a noble quest, began pretending to extricate the two women. However, all he managed to do was enmesh his own watch. Alecto's cries were muted by the gales of laughter echoing through the room. Finally, Amycus, who had been laughing along with the rest, stepped forward to assist Remus.

"Move over, Lupin," he ordered as he pushed the taller man in the chest. "I'll help my sister."

As Lupin staggered back, Alecto shrieked louder, and Trelawney fell into Amycus' arms. Like a nearsighted bullfrog in the troughs of passion, she gazed adoringly into his eyes.

It was at this fantastic moment that Headmaster Snape and a high ranking Death Eater entered the room. The wild laughter subsided to snorts and chortles of joy while Amycus, Alecto, Remus, and Sybil cavorted in vain attempts to free themselves.

"Enough," Snape roared loudly enough to shake the windows of the staff room. "What. In. Merlin's. Name. Is. Going. On?" he demanded, as a faint rosy glow crept up his pale face. His companion, grim grin on his face, walked quickly over and stuck his face close to the action.

McGregor was the only one who dared speak. "Headmaster Snape, good morning," he said simply in his deep voice. "When Miss Carrow's misapplied hair charm misfired again, Professor Trelawney attempted to assist her. Sorry to say, Sybil's jewelry was caught up in the charm, so Professor Lupin and Mr. Carrow offered to help as well."

Complete silence and stillness met this simple explanation. Slowly Snape turned to his companion. "You see, Rodolphus, what I was telling you," he drawled. With a billow of robes, he stalked to the head of the table, and when he neared the twisted mass of individuals, he paused. A collective gasp went around as he drew his wand, but before anyone could voice a complaint, Snape snapped his wrist, cutting away bits of hair from all four as well as the nosey Death Eater.

"Done," was his single comment as he sat down and folded his arms on the table.

"My goodness," Slughorn quipped, "it seems to be snowing hair."

Pink tufts of hair settled to the floor as Alecto's hair again changed color.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Ginny, Harry, Ron!" Hermione hissed into the mirror. "Hello?"

"Oh, Ron, look," Ginny called out. "Hermione has both babies with her this time."

Ron peered over the top of Harry's heard. "Yeah, they're cute, 'mione. I hope they don't give you as much trouble as Fred and George gave mum."

"Hermione," Harry replied, "what is it?

Hermione sighed. "I've got good news and bad news." She paused. "The good news is that we found another horcrux. Luna found Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, and Professor McGregor destroyed it."

"That's wonderful, Hermione!" shouted Ron.

"Yes," Ginny, the realist, put in, "but what's the bad news?"

"You were right, Ron," Hermione said grimly. "The other founders' horcrux is Hufflepuff's cup."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Harry mused. "What's the catch?"

"It has been moved to Rodolphus Lestrange's vault in Gringots. The three of you will have to get it out."

"What?" yelled Ron. "Oh, so we are just supposed to waltz into Gringots and take something out of the Lestrange's vault! You're bonkers, Hermione!"

She frowned. "Look, Ronald," she said, using her teacher voice, "don't get snarky with me! I live with the snark master, you know. I don't need it from you."

Harry shot Ron an angry look and he mumbled an apology. "All right, Hermione," he said, "just keep thinking. Surely between the four of us, we can find a way to get the cup and destroy it."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"The hell you will!" Neville Longbottom said. He stood, legs apart, and confronted the Divination teacher. His voice rumbled in deadly earnest as he pushed Hannah behind him.

"Stand down, Mr. Longbottom," Amycus Carrow ordered. There was an unnatural gleam in his eyes. "Miss Abbot," he barked, "I told you to remain after class again."

"Neville," Seamus said gently.

"No," Neville answered both friend and foe. He never took his eyes from Carrow. "Get her out of here, Seamus. Hannah's not staying alone with you again, not after what you tried to do to her. She's leaving with us now."

"She's my fiancée," Amycus informed them smugly. "I'll do what I want with her." He took a threatening step towards the students. "No more games, children. Stand down."

The door banged open and Sirius Black, breathless, ran into the room followed by Parvati Patil. "See, Professor," Patil cried, "they're fighting over Hannah."

Eyes darting back and forth, Sirius knew things could easily turn deadly. While Carrow was a Death Eater, he was young and inexperienced in a real duel. Longbottom was taller, heavier, and younger. Both were probably equal in fighting experience, but in a one-on-one fist fight, Neville could probably whip the older man.

Slowly and with dignity, he moved into the room. "Miss Patil, please remove yourself and Miss Abbot from the room. This is no place for ladies." He placed himself, wand drawn, between the men and waited until the door had closed behind them. "An honorable duel between Purebloods for the hand of a lady is an ancient and noble tradition," he stated, making it up as he went along. "Mr. Finnegan, will you be willing to act as referee in the matter? Good."

Carrow wheeled on him, brandishing his wand. "No, Black, the girl is mine by right of the Muggleborn marriage act. I've had my eye on her for a while now- "

"You pervert!" Neville shouted, shaking his wand in accusation.

" -and," Amycus continued, stopping only to grin at the boy, "when I turned thirty, I filed paperwork on her."

With a sudden grab, Black held both wands, which he instantly turned over to Seamus. "Hold these, Finnegan. Now, I can assure you that I have an understanding of this marriage law, Amycus." He smiled, trying to take the man off guard. "There have been some recent changes in the law, which allow for Longbottom here to challenge your claim on the girl."

Longbottom's face didn't waver one jot as he moved closer to the now unarmed professor. "That's fine with me," he declared as he stepped forward. Without warning, Neville punched Professor Amycus Carrow in the nose, breaking it with a resounding crunch.


	23. Chapter 23

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Any mistakes you see are all my own. Selek always does a great job beta-reading. Thank you to all my reviewers. I'm sorry I haven't been able to respond to you all. Life just got complicated.

Please review.

 **Chapter 23**

Headmaster Snape scrubbed his hands across his face. There were times when he didn't know whether he was running a school or a three-ring circus. If it weren't the staff doing all they could to irritate the Carrows, it was the two of them whining and complaining. Then there were the constant letters from parents.

He pulled open the secret bottom drawer of the desk and removed a bottle of Muggle Jagermeister. He shuddered when he recalled how it tasted like licorice wands and shoved it back in the drawer, wondering for the umpteenth time what was wrong with the former headmaster's taste buds.

He turned to face Dumbledore's portrait, as it hung on the wall behind him. The man in the painting was snoring away. "Oh, Albus," he complained bitterly, "you asked too much of me this time. I can't do this much longer. It's killing me a surely as -" He broke off as a lump began to form in his throat. "If it weren't for Hermione and the boys," he whispered harshly. "Damn, you, Albus, I need your help!"

The office door swung open then, and McGregor's face popped into view. "Headmaster," he stated boldly as he held open the office door, "you have a problem."

It took both Sirius Black, smiling all the while, and Dougal McGregor to drag a battered and bruised Amycus Carrow into the room. The heavily beaten professor was holding a cloth to his broken and bleeding nose.

Pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, Headmaster Snape used the other to gesture them to seats. He cast another annoyed look at the portrait before turning to face this new situation. "What," he intoned coldly, "is the matter now?" When no one seemed eager to explain, Snape singled out the newest member of staff. "McGregor," he barked, "explain. Now!"

Dougal gave the Headmaster a look of sympathy, and rose to place Carrow's wand on the desk. He jerked his head towards the bleeding wizard. "Apparently, he has been keeping Miss Hannah Abbot behind after class and," he growled angrily, "behaving in an inappropriate, ungentlemanly manner."

"He was touching her, Snape," Sirus brusquely translated.

Severus' face darkened, and, bracing himself on his desk, he slowly stood to loom over the man. "Amycus Carrow," he hissed in a deadly tone of voice, "did you rape that girl?"

"No," Carrow replied quickly. "I didn't. I just let her know that she was mine," he said, continuing to defend himself. "I filed paperwork for her when I turned thirty. I was going to talk to you about a time for a marriage."

With forced calm, Severus sat back down. "Marriage? Is the girl amenable to a union?"

"She's doesn't get an opinion. She's just a mudblood, Snape," he scoffed. "Besides, you've got your little pet- " Carrow never finished his sentence.

" _Langlock!_ " Severus snapped. "I have told you what would happen if you used that word in front of me again, Amycus." He ground his teeth as the air around him fairly shimmered with unleashed power. Forcing himself to relax, he turned again to McGregor and Black. "And I suppose you two heroes saved the girl and 'punished' him, accounting for his present condition?"

Black grinned from ear to ear. "Why not at all, Headmaster," he said. "It was Miss Patil who alerted me to the situation, but by the time I got there, there was nothing for me to do but order the girls to leave and insure it was a fair fight between -"

He cut Black off with a long look of irritation. "You watched as several students ambushed a professor, took his wand, and assaulted him?"

Black snorted. "No," he said bluntly, "I disarmed Carrow and Longbottom. It was an ancient and honorable duel, you see?"

"Hmm, yes, I believe I do," Snape said. His eyebrows rose as did his regard for Black. "So, you allowed _him_ and Longbottom to fight. Is that right?" The disgust he felt for the Divination professor was evident in his voice. "I suppose Mr. Longbottom is in the hospital wing." He pulled out a sheaf of parchments and a quill.

"Wrong, again," Sirius said with a grin. "Neville took him on alone, and you can see the result for yourself."

Again, the Headmaster's brows were raised, and his admiration for the boy almost showed. "Are you telling me that Longbottom single handedly did this?"

"That he did," crowed Black, "and before we brought him to you, we visited Poppy, so you're seeing the cleaned up version."

McGregor stepped in, then. "Mr. Longbottom and Miss Abbot, along with several other students, have disappeared."

"Severus," Hermione called as she entered the office, "could you watch Emyrs and Albus for a moment? I need to see Minerva about -"

"Now is not a good time," he replied angrily.

She looked around in surprise. "Oh, I see." She steered the magi-stroller back towards the bedroom. "I'll just have Grazey tend them."

The door may have closed behind her, but Hermione made no attempt to move. "Grazey," she called softly, and was rewarded with a slight popping sound.

The little elf clapped hers hands joyfully. "Oh, Grazey knew Missy 'mione needed her! Grazey is good house elf. Grazey doesn't need a day off. What can Grazey do to help?"

"Two things," Hermione whispered, "watch the babies, and use those grand ears of yours to listen in to what's going on in there."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"Harry, I've got a plan," Hermione said into the mirror with a huge smile.

Ginny popped into the edge of the mirror. "What is it? What's the plan?" She looked over her shoulder and yelled. "Hey, guys, come here. Hermione has a plan figured out for us."

Hermione waited until all three of them were seated. "You're not going to like it, but it will work. Okay, Ginny and Ron will use polyjuice to impersonate the Carrow twins in order to get into the Gringot's vault- "

"I thought you said the cup was in the Lestrange's vault," Harry interrupted her.

"It is." She nodded. "Sirus will also be using polyjuice to impersonate Rodolphus Lestrange. Together the three of you will be able to get into and out of the vault with the cup."

"What about me?" Harry demanded.

"That's great, Hermione," Ginny said, "but how do we destroy it?"

"Sirius and Dougal will bring the cup back to Hogwarts and destroy it like we destroyed the diadem," she explained. "Harry, you will stay with Dougal until they return."

"I don't like it," Harry instantly replied. "I don't like them going into danger alone."

"We won't be, mate," Ron said. "We'll be together, and we'll have Sirius."

Harry frowned. "I don't want to sit around doing nothing with this McGregor chap while -"

"How do we get the polyjuice and samples of their hair?" Ron broke in.

Ginny laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It doesn't matter who gets the cup, Harry. Ron, Sirius, and I - we're expendable in the long run. Don't you see? You have to stay safe because you're the Chosen One."

"I don't care!" railed Harry. "I don't want to be the Chosen One. I can't let you take chances like that."

Ron clamped a beefy hand down on Harry's shoulder. "It doesn't matter much what you want at this point, mate." Quickly, he faced the mirror. "So, where do we get this stuff?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Sirius and McDougal will be visiting Augusta Longbottom tomorrow morning at ten. They will meet you at her town house in London. It's on St. James." She sighed again. "This will work, Harry."

"Won't it look suspicious?" Harry complained. "Why would two teachers from Hogwarts visit Mrs. Longbottom on a school day morning?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry, it won't. Look, I can't go into all the details right now, but Neville has been expelled from school for assaulting a teacher."

"What?" Ginny squeaked. "Dear sweet Neville? I don't believe it!"

"And now no one seems to be able to find him," Hermione added. "Neville, Padma, Luna, Hannah, Seamus, Dean, Draco, Astoria, Susan Bones, and many more students are missing."

"Blimey!" Ron cried. "Well, good for Neville, I say."

"Harry," Hermione said, "I know that mulish expression on your face. Just meet with Sirius and Dougal. Listen to them, please."

"All right, Hermione." Harry gave in with a sigh.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"You didn't get in trouble with _him_ , did you?" Hermione's emphasis on the word left no doubt whom she meant.

Severus sighed heavily and dropped into the armchair. He stretched out his long legs toward the fire and toed off his boots. "No," he told her, "not this time. Rodolphus testified on my behalf. Oh, thank you." He took a long sip from the tea cup and frowned. "What's in this?"

Hermione pulled up a chair beside him and sipped from a matching cup. "Passion flower tea. I can have Grazey bring something else if you'd like."

He set the cup on the occasional table. "And why would you be offering me sedative tea?"

"Severus Snape," she huffed, "are you going to be suspicious of me after all this time?"

"Why?"

"I thought _he_ might have hurt you!" she snapped. "I thought a mild sedative tea would help you relax, so I could handle your injuries better." Her anger changed to tears. "Oh, don't you remember the last time the Carrows complained? You were beaten so badly. I was so afraid you'd be hurt again."

Snape's face thawed. "I'm sorry," he said softly. He picked up the cup again, and within moments, the Headmaster sat drinking the warm tea. "No, Hermione, as I told you, Rodolphus explained to the Dark Lord just how incompetent those two morons are, and there is a possibility that he will recall them." He finished his tea, set the cup back on the table, and stood.

Hermione finished the last sip of her tea and handed the cup to Severus. "If you don't like the passion flower tea, maybe you'd like some of mine," she suggested. Her honey-colored eyes twinkled.

He frowned and sniffed her cup. "Ginger tea?"

"Suspicious again?" she asked with a pretty pout.

"Not at all," he told her as he set the cup aside, "just curious."

"Ginger tea," she said as she stood on tip-toe to kiss him, "is what Poppy prescribes for pregnancy nausea."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"So," Minerva McGonagall said softly, "you told Harry. You told the boy what he must do."

Dougal grunted in reply. He reached across the small Muggle pub table to hold her hand. "I had to, Min," he sighed. "He must know how to defeat Tom."

"I don't like it," she whispered fiercely. "I don't like it one bit."

"I know you don't," he said with sad resignation. "I don't either." His blue eyes pierced her green ones. "You know I don't, but it has to be."

"Aye," she muttered sourly. "Barkeep," she yelled behind her, "another couple of pints." Squeezing his hands tightly, she asked him, "How did he take the news about Severus?"

"Thank you," Dougal told the man as he handed him a large note. "Keep the change." He lifted his glass, waited her for, and they silently drank together. "He took it surprisingly well."

"Good, the boy needed a good dose of common sense," Minerva said.

"I think that was entirely due to a prolonged exposure to Miss Weasley," Dougal laughed dryly.

"No doubt," she laughed. "So, what's next?"

"Augusta will keep them tonight. In the morning, she will return with them to Hogwarts. They will be polyjuiced as Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Finnegan, and Miss Abbot." He nodded and smiled at her. "Yes, there's to be a showdown between Augusta, Amycus Carrow, and Severus. Sirius and I are to be there, too."

Minerva whistled low. "I'd hate to be Severus tomorrow. Augusta Longbottom in a tizzy can be almost as bad as -"

"Oh, it gets worse, my dear," he told her. "This confrontation is only a distraction so that Aberforth can smuggle the Order into the castle through the Hog's Head," he told her. "They will rally together in the Room of Requirement with the children of the Dueling Club."

"No, love," she said firmly, "none of them are children any longer."

"Quite so, Min, quite so," he sighed sadly. "When Tom learns they are in the castle, he'll make his play. Harry will lead the others out and- "

"And Harry must die himself in order to kill Tom."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Hermione sat on the floor of the Headmaster's office playing with Emyrs and Albus. Minerva had given her the glad news that she had finished her first year's transfiguration apprenticeship in record time and could now call herself an assistant professor. She was hoping that she could talk Severus into taking them to Hogsmeade for a celebration with some long overdue shopping.

The boys were eleven months old now, and both of them were beginning to toddle around. With the rate they were already growing, she knew they would need larger clothes soon. No doubt the boys would be tall like their father.

Her smile widened in anticipation when the office door opened. "Sirius," she said in surprise, "what are you doing here?"

Sirius gave her his most charming smile in return. "Just another meeting," he said cheerfully. "Come on in, McGregor, Carrow." He cast a glance behind him. "Snape's not here yet, just Hermione and the boys. We can wait."

Within minutes, Severus swept open the door to allow Augusta Longbottom, Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbot, and Seamus Finnegan into the room. The Headmaster's black robes swept around his legs as he shut the door and offered them a seat.

Instantly, the toddlers were on their feet. "Da!" they squealed.

The grim line on Severus' face melted into one of joy.

"Oh," Augusta said softly. The harsh wrinkles of her face crinkled into smile lines. "Are those yours?"

"Yes," Snape said simply. There was no denying the pride in his voice. He reached down to scoop up both boys. "Just starting to walk," he muttered.

"Congratulations," Augusta said with a smile, "and good luck."

Instantly Snape frowned, perceiving a veiled threat. "Just what do you mean, Mrs. Longbottom, by 'good luck' ?" he asked gravely.

Sirius laughed. "It's a well-known fact that when sweet little infants turn into toddlers, they become mobile, agile, and hostile." He pointed at Remus, whose own son had recently been born. "You'll find out, too."

Fighting himself not to laugh with the group, Severus eyed his family speculatively. Then he frowned. "Hermione, I think you ought to take the twins to visit Septima Black today. I'm sure she would welcome company, and Emrys and Albus could visit with Hyacinth."

"I think that would be a wonderful idea," echoed McGregor.


	24. Chapter 24

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. This story is almost finished. Thanks over and over to the Mighty Selek for the grand beta job. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers. There is only one chapter left in this story. Of course, there are many other stories to go along with this one still rattling around inside my head…

Please review.

 **Chapter 24**

 **May 1, 1998**

"It's today," Draco said in a whisper as he and Blaise joined her on the way to the Great Hall. "That's why the Headmaster has called everyone to this meeting."

Hermione was completely baffled by this comment, but only momentarily. Then, terror struck her, and her heart pounded in her chest. She shared a quick look with Blaise, whose face was like stone, and hurried her steps, almost sprinting.

Draco stopped her, taking her by the arm.

"Let me go, damn it!" she hissed at him as she tried to jerk away. "My children are in there! Grazey took them down a few moments ago, so I could put on my professor's robes."

He leaning down and whispered directly in her ear. "It's all playing out just as planned," he said softly. "Don't rush in there and ruin it."

Blaise took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Besides, you're pregnant again," he told her with a smile. "No, it doesn't matter how we know. Just understand that we will protect you and your children. You've earned the respect of Slytherin house."

"Sit down and rest a bit, Hermione," Draco instructed her. "Gather your breath. You won't be any good to anyone if you faint."

The young men led her to a bench and force her to sit down before they turned to enter the Great Hall.

Hermione sat, a thousand thoughts flying through her mind, and tried to calm herself. Slowly she forced herself to breathe, watching as the other students marched in according to their Houses. The Heads of House walked along beside their charges, and the other members of staff followed as well. Bracing her hands on her knees, she regained her control and stood to follow behind the Carrow twins.

Hermione walked into the Great Hall with her head held high and her back ramrod straight. She'd learned more from Minerva than just transfiguration. She could hear the sound of raised angry voices, and she hurried forward towards the front of the room. According to professorial protocol, she knew she should take her place next to McGonagall, but as she moved quickly on the heels of Alecto, she saw something that made her freeze in place, her blood rapidly boiling.

Emrys and Albus were standing in the aisle holding Grazey's hand, waiting for her. As the Carrow twins stormed the aisle to stand on either side of the Headmaster, Alecto angrily shoved Grazey out of the way, and Amycus kicked at the elf. Their actions brought a shocked awe from the room, not so much on behalf of the elf, but for the toddlers.

Both children hit the hard stone floor and cried out. It was instantaneous, and so outrageous to see these beloved little ones hit the ground that no one could think, much less move.

No one save Hermione.

With an anger that would have frightened Voldemort himself, the young mother roared down the aisle like a winged banshee. In one quick movement, she snatched up her children and the elf. Palpable waves of red hot anger escaped her and curled in visible lava colored sparks around her head. A sharp inhalation of breath and her mother's magic sprang loose and rocketed across the Great Hall, slamming into the hated professors.

Alecto and Amycus were lifted from the ground and flung back against the wall where they hung like insects pinned to a board. The sudden attack had rendered both Death Eaters speechless and suspended from the floor.

Once the young mother had assured herself that her children were unharmed, she released the brother and sister with a casual nod. They dropped to the floor like twin stones and lay there in utter confusion.

Hermione never realized that she had completely disrupted whatever had been going on at the time. She did not care. Nor did she realize that she had performed a tremendous feat of non-verbal magic without a wand. Others, however, did take note.

"Blimey, 'moine," Ron gasped. "We don't need to fight Voldemort, just send you out there." His comment cut the tension in the room, allowing everyone to take a much needed breath.

"Ron?" Hermione said slowly. She blinked and, as she saw her friends and the Order members, she realized what was going on and blushed. When she looked around, she recognized the situation and sucked in a breath.

Harry and the Order along with the teachers were in a stand-off with the Carrows and her husband. Now, because of her actions, Severus stood alone. "Grazey," Hermione said firmly, "take the boys to Septima Black. Stay with them."

"Grazey guard her boys with her very life!" the little elf exclaimed as fiercely as any Amazon. Then, with a snap of her spindly fingers, they were gone.

Hermione turned to face Severus and with a faint blush of shame took her place next to Minerva. "Please," she whispered, "don't let him be hurt."

Immediately, Draco moved out of ranks. He trained his wand on Harry. "All those who support the Dark Lord," he announced to the assemblage, "follow me! Blaise, lead the way." As the tall, dark skinned young man ran towards the doors, a small group dashed behind him. "No one," Draco ordered, sweeping his wand around the room, "will follow us. We're taking Flich and his cat hostage." With that surprising statement, Draco grabbed the older man by the arm and dragged him away.

Amycus, who had taken advantage of the chaos, chose this moment to grab his sister and apparate away.

"Isn't someone going to stop them?" Ginny demanded.

"There's no need to," Sirius informed her. "Draco and Blaise will be back once they've secured the traitors and set Flich to guard them." He pointed his wand at Snape; his deadly intentions apparent in his cruel grin. "We only have to deal with him."

"No, Sirius," Dougal said. "Put your wand down." He pushed Sirius' arm down and took a step towards Snape. Snape, however, did not lower his wand. Dougal smiled. "Hermione," he said pleasantly, "would you be a dear, and bring me that vial."

Hermione looked over at Minerva, who was smiling wearily and holding out a blue potion bottle. "All right," she replied hesitantly, confusion evident in her voice.

Dougal McGregor downed the potion in one quick toss, and then to the amazement of the entire crowd, he began to morph. Slowly and surely, the form and features of the long dead Dougal McGregor became those of Albus Dumbledore. Chaos, for the second time, erupted.

Severus Snape gasped and fell backward. He would have hit the floor if Hermione and Albus hadn't caught him and held him upright.

"I," he stuttered, "I - you, I killed you!" He struggled to put his thoughts into words. He grabbed the front of Dumbledore's robes. "You ordered me to kill you!"

Albus gave the younger wizard a fatherly smile and patted his back. "I know, and I'm terribly sorry about that. I'm sorry we had to deceive you like this as well, my boy. When this is all over with, I'll sit you down and tell you the entire story, but right now, we have a war to win."

An eerie hissing crept like insidious fog around the Great Hall. Voldemort's voice issued his demands for Harry Potter. "No one will be hurt. All will be spared if you send out Harry Potter. You have one hour before I unleash my forces."

Dumbledore turned and pressed his wand to his throat. He cast a sonorous charm. "All members of the Healers Club, report to the hospital wing immediately. Dueling Club will form into their squads now. Order members take a squad and separate to your assigned areas. First through fourth years report to the back of the Great Hall."

Instantly everyone was moving. It was organized chaos.

"Hermione," Pomona Sprout shouted, "get the younger years to safety. Now!"

"Yes, of course," she yelled in return. She grabbed Severus by the front of his robes and pulled him to her. "Don't you dare die, Severus Snape," she told him frantically. Then she kissed him and ran to take her charges to Hogsmeade through the tunnel under the Whomping willow.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

She felt like she was coming unglued. Many of the younger children, the first and second years, were crying, white faced, in stark terror. For the most part, the third years, especially the Gryffindors, were prancing about, boasting and bragging about what they would be doing if only they were allowed to fight. Only a few of the fourth years, mostly girls, remained with her.

A great majority of the boys had staged a minor revolt and left to join the fighting. Hermione had argued with them, begged, pleaded, ordered, and tried her best to send them on a guilt trip for abandoning the younger children, but it didn't work. The boys had banded together, led by a singularly stubborn Ravenclaw named Gerald, and left. Gerry assured her that his 'men' would only be used as back up, to carry supplies, run errands, or guard prisoners. Apparently, they had been planning their mutiny for quite a while.

"Mrs. Snape?" one of the fourth year Hufflepuff girls said. "Mrs. Snape, what are we waiting for?"

Hermione blinked and snapped out of her daze. "Miss Mariena," she told the girl. "We are waiting for Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini. They are on our side and will protect us while we escape." She raised her voice. "It's going to be all right," she assured the group of youngsters. "Just be patient and our escort will be here shortly."

"Mrs. Snape," Leonora Lipworth, a fourth year Slytherin, said, "I think the remaining fourth years could probably set up a mini-potions lab, don't you? We could brew as many healing potions as possible."

Hermione smiled grimly. "That's a wonderful idea in theory, Miss Lipworth, but I can't allow it. We don't know where the fighting will be, and I am responsible for your safety."

"We'll be careful, Mrs. Snape," Leonora persisted, "and our potions may make the difference between life and death for some. We won't leave the lab, will we?" She looked to the other fourth years, who readily nodded. "I can form a patronus, and I'll contact Gerry when we have supplies ready to be taken to the hospital wing."

Frowning, Hermione knew that she's been out-maneuvered. "You had this planned from the start, didn't you?" she accused the girl.

Grinning fiercely and standing her ground, Leonora replied softly. "Yes, we did, but the rest of us didn't want to abandon you with the children until Draco and Blaise returned."

Hermione sighed angrily and began to argue, but as soon as Draco slipped into the Great Hall, the remaining fourth years scattered.

"Hey, get back here, you morons! Do you want to get killed?" Quickly, Draco made a head count. "Where are all the fourth years?" he demanded.

"They mutinied!" Hermione exclaimed frantically.

Draco clenched his back teeth. "Damn! There's no help for it now," he growled angrily. "All right, you little shits," Draco ordered, "line up. Quietly! And don't you dare cry, whine, or make any sound!"

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," Hermione reprimanded him, "you needn't be so mean. All right, children," she said gently, "I want everyone to find a partner and hold hands."

Blaise, breathlessly, joined them. He lowered his voice. "We can't get out," he told them. "All exits have been cut off, the passage through to the Shrieking Shack is not only blocked from our side, but the Death Eaters are using the Shack as a base."

Hermione bit her lip. "There's another way. I can get us out," she told them. "I know a back way into Honeydukes' cellar."

"Perfect," Draco said with a grin. "If you get us into Honeydukes, Blaise and I can apparate the kids to his mum's London townhouse."

"Better than that," Blaise returned. "When we show up with the first of the kiddies, Mum will send her elves to gather the Slugclub members. Many of them have promised to return to fight, and others have promised to help the kids out."

"Blaise," Hermione said, "if you and Draco will follow the children, I'll lead the way."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"There is only one First year left," Blaise announced. "I'll take the kid if you take Mrs. Snape."

"Done," Draco agreed. And within seconds, Hufflepuff Timothy Woodbede and Blaise Zabini were gone.

"Hermione," Draco said as he took her by the arm in an iron grip, "your husband has charged me with an Unbreakable Vow to see you and the twins safely away to Grimmauld Place. You're to stay with Septima Vector Black until the war is over."

"Now see here, Draco," Hermione snapped, "I fully intend to return to Hogwarts and fight."

"This is not negotiable," Draco retorted. "Uncle Severus told me to tell you this is a command from your husband. You will stay with Mrs. Black for the duration of the war."

Before she could register any further protest, Hermione was jerked away. She landed with a slight thump and staggered with disorientation. Draco stood passively by, waiting until she recovered her equilibrium. "Mother says it's always worse when a woman is with child," he murmured. Hermione glared daggers at him, but he only laughed as he marched her across the street and rang the bell.

Andromeda Tonks with a month-old infant in her arms opened the door. "I've got it, Septima," she called back. "Hermione, Draco, come in quickly. What's going on? I received a partial patronus from Nymphadora telling me the war was beginning."

"My boys?" Hermione asked anxiously as they walked into the main sitting room.

Septima stood and handed a tiny baby to a waiting house elf and smiled grimly. "They are upstairs in bed asleep with that little Grazey standing over them like a Roman centurion."

"Aunt Andy," Draco said softly, "as far as I know open battle hasn't broken out yet," Draco told her politely. "I expect it's only moments away." He turned then to face Septima Black and bowed formally. "I am to offer deepest respect and thankfulness from Headmaster Snape for your allowing his wife and children, born and unborn, to claim your home as sanctuary."

Although she bristled, Septima maintained a civil tone. "You may tell Snape that his _wife_ and _children_ are always welcome in our home."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

The minutes bled by, hemorrhaging into hours, as the three women sat up all night. Desperately, they buoyed up each other's hopes, pushing back the fears. It was well after sun rise when they felt the wards of the house shift. Bracing themselves for anything, they stood facing the door way when Sirius Black, bloodied and battered, rushed into the room and his wife's arms.

"It's over," he murmured as he kissed her repeatedly. "It's done. It's over. Harry's done it. He's killed Voldemort. The light has won."

The room rang with shouts of joy and excitement. Septima, pulling Sirius to the couch, ordered Kreacher to bring food and drink for all.

"No, no," Sirius laughed as he fended off his wife's concerned hands, "I'm fine. Just a few scratches, some bruises. But I am starving." He grabbed a roast beef sandwich and devoured it in four bites.

"Sirius," Andromeda asked, "what of the others?"

He drank down a tall glass of pumpkin juice and slowly wiped his mouth. He couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, Cousin," he told her sadly.

Sorrow laden panic ebbed across the older woman's face, and tears rolled down her cheeks. "Not my baby," she whispered to herself, "not my daughter, my only child. Sweet Merlin, not on top of after losing Ted last year." She broke down and wept.

"I'm so sorry, Cousin," Sirius croaked out. "When Remus fell, she went wild, hurling curse after curse." He broke off. "You have to be strong, Andromeda. Little Teddy needs you."

Hermione moved to the sofa beside Andromeda and held her. "Sirius," she asked, her voice shaking with terror, "what about Severus?"


	25. Chapter 25

I do not own anything in the world of Harry Potter. Okay, this is the end. It's been a long time coming, and I thank everyone who stayed with me. I couldn't have finished this without my amazing beta, Selek.

Please review.

 **Chapter 25**

"Severus is - no, Septima, it's not like we thought at all - He's been on our side all along," Sirius said, grasping her hands. "I won't say the man's entirely innocent, but he's not a Death Eater. And you know I'd be the last one to defend him."

"Sirius," Hermione urged, "what's happened to my husband?"

"He's survived the battle, Hermione," Sirius said gently. Then, frowning, he became sober. "I'm rather ashamed of the way I've treated him in the past. I'll make it my business to beg his forgiveness if he - "

"If he what?" Hermione demanded. She jumped up from the sofa. "If he what, Sirius?"

Sirius stood slowly and took the witch by the elbows. His voice was gentle when he spoke. "Severus survived, Hermione, but he's badly wounded. Nagini attacked him." He moved quickly then to catch her as her knees buckled. "Neville killed the snake, Hermione, with the sword of Gryffindor. He was amazing."

"Where is Severus?" she demanded as she clutched his shirt front. "Take me to him!"

"He's at St. Mungos right now," Sirius said. "I'll take you."

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

Hermione was exhausted, but still she kept a bleary-eyed vigil over her husband. As long as Severus slept peacefully, ashen faced, his throat swathed in thick bandages, she felt hope. She blinked and rubbed her red-rimmed eyes; they felt like sandpaper.

"Och, Hermione, child," Minerva said with a sigh, "come away for a bit, girl. You'll do neither him nor the bairns any good if you collapse from exhaustion." She kissed the daughter of her heart on the head and gently urged her to stand. "And the one you carry needs care, too."

"Minerva," Hermione replied, her voice breaking with sorrow, "I can't leave him. What if he wakes up, and I'm not here?"

Dumbledore took Hermione's place in the chair beside the hospital bed. "I'll sit with him, Hermione," he told her softly, "until you get back."

"So will we," Harry announced as he, Ron, and Ginny entered the room.

"Go on, 'mione," Ron told her with a smile. He held up Emrys. "Say 'Bye-bye, Mum'." Ron waved the little boy's hand up and down.

Ginny bounced little Albus on her hip. "Get something to eat, Hermione. Clean up and get some rest," she ordered sternly. "If Professor Snape were to wake up and see you sitting beside him looking like that, he'd think you were both dead."

Hermione choked a tearful laugh back. "All right," she conceded, "but just for a while, but promise me you'll- "

"We'll call you the moment he wakes," Dumbledore said with a smile and a nod.

 **SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**

"I'm in hell," Severus Snape rasped out. With great pain and thirst, he had awoken to see not only Albus Dumbledore, but also Harry bloody Potter and company standing over his bed. He shifted on the bed, pushing himself up against the pillow.

"Don't try to speak, Severus," Albus said gently. "Miss Weasley, my dear, would you fetch a Healer and, of course, Mrs. Snape?"

Before Ginny ducked out of the room, she handed the sleeping Albus to his name sake. Harry approached and squared his shoulders. "Professor," he said humbly, "I would like to apologize. For the past seven years, I have behaved abominably towards you. I hope you can forgive me."

"Uh, yeah, Professor," Ron added, stepping to Harry's side, "me too. See, Emrys here doesn't hold it against us, do you, little guy?"

Severus was saved from having to answer as the door to the room blew open and Hermione rushed in. She threw herself into his arms and wept tears of joy. "You're awake," she gasped over and over as she covered his face with kisses.

"Aw, 'mione," Ron complained with a half-hearted groan, "why'd you go and do that? Huh?" A look of sheer horror crossed his features then, and he held the toddler at arm's length. "Ewww!" he wrinkled his nose, "see, even Emrys knows that's just wrong."

"Out of the way, clear back." The Healer's voice was a monotone, no doubt from repeating these directions. "Move, and let me check those wounds."

Snape snorted and gently pushed his wife back. "Perhaps it would be best if you tended our sons before that buffoon drops him." His voice was like sandpaper, but it was apparent that he would heal completely.

 **July 1, 1998**

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore heaved a great sigh as he sank into his chair. "I cannot state in mere words how much I thank you all for helping in the rebuilding of Hogwarts and the reinstatement of the school," he told his staff. "The Ministry, under the leadership of Kingsley Shacklebolt, has repealed the Marriage Law and is currently re-organizing itself. Kingsley has asked me to return as Headmaster of Hogwarts, and I have agreed to do so for the next year only." He looked around the table, holding everyone's gaze for a few moments. "I'm old. I'm tired," he informed them seriously.

"Surely, you aren't going to leave us, Albus," squeaked Filius.

Dumbledore looked at him over the tops of his glasses. "I might be persuaded to stay on in a teaching position. I found that I rather enjoyed teaching Defense this past year."

"Then, who will be Headmaster?" asked Sirius.

"Or Headmistress," added Septima.

Dumbledore explained, "Hogwarts has a unique problem. She has two current Headmasters, you see, and one Acting Headmistress. As I did not retire, quit, die, or was removed from my post, I am still Headmaster, but," he continued, "Severus, too, is a legally appointed Headmaster."

"Well, I'm completely confused," Pomona stated. She threw up her hands. "So, Severus and you are now co-Headmasters? What about Minerva?"

Severus, held a hand to his still-bandaged throat, and rasped out, "He will be Headmaster for this year. Minerva will take over for the next few years, and I will re-assume that role when she retires."

"I will continue teaching Transfiguration," Minerva added, "until I'm sure that Hermione is ready to take my place. Then, I will take over as Headmistress, but only for a few more years."

"Now, let's get on with this," Dumbledore said, redirecting the conversation. "I'd like to spend a little time alone today with my bride."

Minerva, blushing, smiled. "I want to thank all of you," she said, "for testing the students who attended last year; they will be either promoted or retained based on their final exam results. Hermione?"

"All students and parents have been notified of their results and subsequent placement," Hermione answered. She tapped a stack of parchments. "I've also sent letters to incoming Muggleborns and am making a schedule to meet with each family in the coming week."

Dumbledore smiled at her. He opened a bottle of ink, chose a quill, and pulled a parchment in front of him. "Thank you, my dear," he said. "Now, it just remains to re-staff for next year. Rolanda, will you continues teaching Flying?"

"For a few more years," she replied. "And I've got a plan to create an extracurricular Flying Club. Gwenog Jones gave me the idea, and she's agreed to help me."

"That's wonderful," Albus cried. "Thank you. Filius, will you still handle Charms and Ravenclaw?"

"He will," Pomona stated loudly. "Just as I will continue with Hufflepuff, Herbology, and my Gardening Club."

Filius beamed approvingly at his wife. "I'll continue with the Dueling Club as well, and I hope I'll be able to persuade Severus to join me with it this year." He raised his eyebrows at the younger wizard.

Severus nodded his agreement and lifted his hands to his throat. "I will," he said roughly. "I'll also continue Defense for this year, but I would much prefer to return to potions. As for the Slytherins, I believe they will need me now more than ever."

"That's fine with me, my boy," Slughorn cried loudly. "I've had more than my share of excitement, and I am looking to re-retire."

Albus chuckled. "I realize that, and I do thank you, again, old friend." He checked off several spots on the parchment. "Sirius, Septima? What are your plans?"

The young couple exchanged smiles. Sirius nodded to his wife. "We've decided to remain married," Septima said softly. "Sirius and I find that we get along well, and we're happy with our two girls."

"We'd also like to continue teaching History and Arithmancy," Sirius added. "Can we arrange for family housing for the staff during term time? It would be far more convenient for us?"

"Why don't the two of you move into my quarters in Gryffindor tower?" Minerva suggested. "It's much larger, and I won't be using it in any case." Then she added, "I was hoping to get you to take over as Head of Gryffindor anyway."

"Merlin help us!" croaked Snape.

"I'd, I'd be delighted," Sirius exclaimed happily.

"And thank you for the offer, Minerva," Septima said. "We'll have the House Elves move our things in this week."

"I'm glad that's settled," Dumbledore said. He added a few more marks on his parchment. "Bathseda - " he began.

"Of course, I'll continue with Ancient Runes," she answered without waiting for him to finish his sentence. "I've still got several years to go before I can retire."

"That goes for me as well, Headmaster," added Aurora Sinistra. "I'll be happy to continue teaching Astronomy, but, if I may ask, who will become Head of Slytherin in a few years when Severus becomes Headmaster?"

"Thank you, Aurora," Dumbledore said mildly. "Are you interested in the position? If you are, you'll have to take that up with your new Headmaster at a later date." He pointed at Severus with the quill.

"I see no reason why you shouldn't take that post," Severus said, a gleam of speculation in his eyes.

"And the pay increase that goes with it," Aurora Sinistra added with a smile.

"And the larger suite of rooms," added Slughorn. "Let's don't forget that Heads of House receive larger quarters and additional House Elves as a perk."

Shaking his head with amusement, Albus looked around the table. "Hagrid? Poppy?"

"Yes, Albus," Poppy spoke for the group. "We've already spoken about it, and we've decided to stay. I'll be maintaining my Healer's Club."

"Wit' your permission," Hagrid asked, "I'd like ta be startin' a club, too. A sorta Animal Healer's Club, ya know, along with Poppy there."

"A capital idea," Dumbledore agreed. "Irma? Sybill? Will the two of you remain?"

Trelawney, fish-eyed and wild haired, intoned solemnly. "I'll continue teaching the mysteries of the Inner Eye to our youth."

Irma Pince, casting a dubious eye at her neighbor, sighed. "I'll do my best to keep the library, Albus, but so many volumes were damaged or destroyed, I just don't -"

"Headmaster Dumbledore, sir," Argus Filch put in suddenly, "I don't want to leave Hogwarts, but I just don't think I can do my job any more. These students are getting worse and worse each year, and I've about had it up to here!" He cut his hand across his face. "If I could stay on, say as a retired volunteer helper, I would be glad to assist the lovely Miss Pince with the library."

Albus cleared his throat and gestured lamely towards Pince. He looked desperately around the table, but no one was willing to meet his eyes. His entire staff seemed to be in immense contemplation of the table top. "Irma, what do you think?"

Pince lowered her eyelids and batted her lashes a few times in Filch's direction. "I would be most honored to accept the gentleman's gracious offer of assistance."

Inhaling deeply, Dumbledore held his breath for a quick count of five and slowly released it. "Well, then," Albus said, "we'll need a replacement Caretaker. Does anyone have any thoughts on the matter?"

"I have one, though it's a bit unorthodox," Sirius said slowly. "What if we allowed Hogwarts House Elves to handle things? I mean, they practically run the castle anyway?"

"Better still," Septima put in, "what about Dobby? He's a free elf, so he's in need of paying position, isn't he?"

"Why not?" Dumbledore muttered. "All right, we'll give him a trial." He made some more marking on the parchment. "That brings us to the need for a new professor of Muggle Studies. I know that you'll be busy with your apprenticeship, Hermione, and that your confinement is near the end of November- " He blushed as he said the words. "- so, I've made arrangements to hire an American witch for the job. Could you assist her when she arrives?"

"I'd be happy to, Headmaster," Hermione replied. "Who is she?"

"Thank you, Hermione," Albus Dumbledore said. "She is the daughter of an old friend of mine. Horace, you may remember her. Endora?"

"Oh, yes," Slughorn exclaimed, "I do remember Endora well. I was quite taken with her." He smiled fondly. "I would have married her, but she chose that would-be actor Maurice instead."

"And now Endora's daughter will be joining us as our new Muggle Studies teacher. Her name is Samantha Stevens."


End file.
